


Short Circuit

by GilliganGoodfellow



Series: Blue Screen [2]
Category: Detroit: Become Human (Video Game)
Genre: Connor Needs A Hug, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Gavin Needs a Hug, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, I need a hug, Mental Health Issues, North and Hank are besties, Panic Attacks, Sorry Not Sorry, Tags will update as Author writes, Tooth-Rotting Fluff, WIP, Zen Garden (Detroit: Become Human), in the last chapter
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-05
Updated: 2018-09-30
Packaged: 2019-06-21 15:50:39
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 8
Words: 21,886
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15561195
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/GilliganGoodfellow/pseuds/GilliganGoodfellow
Summary: Androids can go deviant.Can deviants go android?It's always been assumed to be a one way street, from machine to alive. But could the reverse be true. Could something that is alive go back to being a machine.The aftermath of a traumatic event sees Connor's personality change completely.





	1. Monsters

**Author's Note:**

> Follows on from Blue Screen.

Connor is 14 months old.

 

* * *

 

 

Hank Anderson sits at his desk, one leg propped up on another chair while he reads case notes on his terminal. His hand is held out in front of him, with the antique coin that Connor got him for his 54th birthday last month. The detective allows himself a small smile as he watches the coin roll across his fingers backwards and forwards.

“Getting pretty good.” He throws the coin up in the air, catching it in his fist before changing the terminal screen to the next case note.

He remembers the look on Connor’s face when Hank finally managed to roll the coin across his fingers and back several times without dropping it. It was something the android had taught the human to do. Not because he was programmed to, but because he had wanted to.

He had wanted to share with Hank something that was important to him, in its own unique way.

Connor’s smile had been the perfect mixture of joy, pride and accomplishment, and Hank had immediately taken a picture with his phone.

He didn’t tell Connor, but later that evening he had attached the picture to two emails.

 

He emailed one copy to Cyberlife

_This is who you decided didn’t deserve to live, you bastards._

 

Then he emailed one to Milly’s owner...no, mother.

He emailed Milly’s mother.

_I'm sorry about your daughter. But please know that thanks to her gift, my android's life, my son's life, was saved. I'm forever grateful to her for that. We both are. Thank you._

 

Hank is brought out of his thoughts by a coffee cup slamming on the desk in front of him. “What’s that?”

“It a fucking coffee.” Fowler says, as if it’s obvious. “Figured I should save you the walk, you being ‘injured in the line of duty’ and all that.”

“Line of duty?” Hank looks from the coffee cup to his injured leg, then at Fowler. “I tripped over Sumo!”

“And which would you rather I tell people.” Fowler crosses his arms. “And I SHOULD send you home, Hank.”

"Stop fussing, Jeffrey.” Hank shouts, frustrated. “It doesn’t even hurt rested under ice like that.” He points at his terminal. “And for the first time in years, I’m caught up on paperwork.”

“The ice came from a frozen hell, then.” Fowler laughs.

“Fuck you.”

“Right.” Fowler nods. “If anyone needs me, I’ll be in my office, adding insubordination to Lieutenant Anderson’s novel of a disciplinary record.”

“Love you to.” Hank doesn’t even look away from the terminal he is studying, before quickly glancing at the opposite desk. The currently empty desk. Connor is out in the field on his first independent case without Hank as his partner.

No. Today someone else got that honour.

 

* * *

 

 

Gavin had made the mistake of suggesting that the android better be careful out alone in the field. “Deviants have a habit of being set on fire by racist assholes.”

“You're right.” Fowler turned to the younger detective. “You better go with him.”

Reed’s mouth fell open.

“It’ll be good for the android’s personal development.” Jeffrey shared a smirk with Hank. “He needs to learn how to work with difficult people.”

“Oh ha ha. Very funny.” Gavin’s retort was thick with sarcasm, before he realised that Fowler wasn't joking.

“I look forward to us working together, Detective.” Connor said. “I am sure we will make a great team.”

“Fowler, what the fuck, man.” Gavin held his hands out in front of him in prayer. “I can’t work with an android! Hell I have issues working with most humans.”

“Well then you can think about your own personal development as well.” Fowler grinned at the look of utter resignation in Gavin's face. “Get to it. Mutilated remains of an old LM100 model found on the edge of Detroit. Pre uprising it was registered to Z. Andronikov, eccentric recluse by all accounts. Last known address is on your terminal. Go see if he knows anything.”

“Q and A.” Gavin studied the case quickly on his terminal, then stood. “Come on then, Prick.”

“Show him some respect.” Hank barked.

“Come on, Mr Prick.”

“Actually.” Connor straightened his tie. “The correct show of respect would be Detective Prick.”

"Yeah, Detective Prick and Detective Asshole. DPD's finest." Gavin briefly considered leaving his pistol so he wouldn't feel tempted to point it at Connor (Wouldn't be the first time he's done that) then holstered it.

"Let's go then, Detective."

 

* * *

 

 

“What’s with the coin?”

Connor looks up from where he’s been playing with the antique coin between his fingers. “Its a calibration exercise, Detective. When I first came online I would practice for hours every day, and I just continued to do so. I suppose as a deviant I find it...comforting.”

“Baby android with a security blanket.” Gavin smirks as he pulls up in front of the house.

“Security blanket?”

“Yeah. Stupid thing kids have to comfort them when they get scared and shit.”

“Did you have one, detective.” Connor asks with a grin.

Gavin scoffs, and gets out of the car, leaving Connor looking at the coin.

“Security blanket.” He nods, pockets the coin, and climbs out of the car to find himself looking at an old, rundown house that Connor finds eerie even during the day.

“Okay, creepy haunted house feel much?” Gavin asks as he knocks on the front door, only to find it swing open. Widening his eyes, he looks at Connor, and then calls into the house. “Mr Andronikov?”

No answer.

“Hey. Anyone home?” Gavin widens the door and steps inside.

“Detective?” Connor grabs his arm. “We can not just enter someone’s home without reason.”

“Front doors open.” Gavin points at the door. “I’m making sure no one's broken in.”

“Is this not US breaking in?”

“Door ain't broken.” Gavin forces his arm out of Connor's grip, and continues inside. “Mr Andronikov. Detroit PD. Just need to ask you a few questions about an old android of yours. You home?”

Connor weighs up his options, and follows the detective into the house, flinching as the door swings shut behind him.

“You jumpy?” Gavin teases. “Haunted house got you nervous.”

“I have a bad feeling about this?” Connor instinctively reaches for the coin in his pocket, spinning it between his thumb and forefinger in a comforting motion as he looks around.

“Spider senses tingling?”

“I detect evidence of at least eight spiders in this room.”

“Fuck sakes, Connor.” Gavin covers his face with his hand. “Please tell me you’re pretending not to get that.”

“Get what, Detective?”

“Jesus.” Gavin rolls his eyes. “If Fucking Fowler wants me to aid your 'personal development', then you and me are having a movie night.”

“Lieutenant Anderson says that reading the book is always better than watching the film.“

“Fine.” Gavin shakes his head. “I’ll have a movie night, and YOU can read a fucking comic.” Gavin runs his finger along a shelf, inspecting how much dust comes away. It’s been months since the place was cleaned. “You’ll love Batman.”

“Batman?”

“Thought having two brains made you smarter?”

“The hybrid CPU is regulating my primary processing power, to compensate for severe software instability. It is not a ‘second brain’.” Connor’s LED blinks yellow for a moment. “It is an augmentation of the first.”

“Yeah, well point is it clearly isn’t making you smart.”

“I can perform several exaflops at any time. But I agree that perhaps I am not as _smart_ as you, when it comes to pop culture.”

“That’s me.” Gavin points at his own chest. “Smart where it counts.” He laughs, looking away for a moment and picking up one of the books from the table. He turns it in his hand a few times, reading the back, then down to where the book had been. “Look at that. Clear square in the dust. Table hasn't been disturbed in months.”

“Perhaps we should return to the precinct and…” Connor is interrupted by a crashing sound from upstairs.

Silence, then another crash.

“He…” Connor is stopped from calling out by Gavin literally clamping a hand over his mouth.

“Are you crazy?” He hisses in his ear, before letting go.

Another crash. 

“Stay behind me.” Gavin whispers, taking out his pistol. He checks over his shoulder once to make sure that Connor is doing as he is told, then slowly makes his way up the stairs, back to the wall, eyes focused on the landing.

 

**_“And the people bowed and prayed.”_ **

 

Singing? Gavin risks a quick glance back at Connor, the question clear in his expression.

The android has no answer. He simply shakes his head, LED red.

 

**_“And the sign flashed out its warning. In the words that it was forming_ ”**

 

Reaching the top of the stairs, they follow the sound to the first open door, peering round before slowly opening it into a bathroom.

 

The android is sat in a bathtub, internal organs and wiring exposed. He is crying blue tears. His LED is red as he looks at Gavin and Connor, still singing.

 

**_“And the sign said, the words of the prophets are written on the subway walls. And tenement halls.”_ **

 

The thirium pump beats inside the broken, shattered chest.

“Holy shit.”

 

**_“And whispered in the sounds of silence.”_ **

 

Gavin feels a sharp pain against the back of his head, and is conscious just long enough to see...what the...

It's an android, but twisted. The legs backwards on the torso, hands a mixture of male and female. The face is disjointed from the rest of the head, like someone is wearing a loose fitting mask. 

The eyes are black. 

It's not alone. Two more disfigured creatures enter the room, dragging a shutdown Connor between them.

One of the creatures hisses, dropping Connor's body and kicking out at Gavin's head. The world goes black.

 

* * *

 

It has been over an hour.

“You look like a worried father.” Fowler teases as Hank looks back at him.

“Nah. I know Connor can handle himself.”

Fowler hums an affirmation, then smirks. “Assuming him and Reed don’t wind up killing each other.”

Hank laughs quietly, his attention taken up by a news flash notification on his terminal. He expands it.

 

_The bill, if passed, will allow androids and mixed android / human couples to foster and adopt human children. Speaking at the press conference in Washington DC, Jericho leader RK200 Markus Manfred said “Androids exist because of humans. And the passing of this bill will enable androids across the country to offer the ultimate service to the people to whom we owe our lives. We will be helping them to raise the next generation of inventors, artists, and dreamers, to the benefit of both races.”_

 

“Machines raising kids.” Fowler says, looking over Hank’s shoulder with his arms crossed. “Don’t know. Don’t seem right to me. Can you imagine your android with a kid?”

“Hell no!” Hank smiles and closes the news story. “Connor's STILL a kid.”

“They all are. Fucking deviants are still learning how to be human themselves. Now they want to raise them.” Fowler raises his hands. “I’m all for android rights, Hank. But, I gotta admit, I’m not sure I support this one.”

“Why? Kids need parents.” Hank shrugs. “Child needs someone to love them. Having an android in the role is better than having no one.”

“Yeah.” Fowler nods, grumbling under his breath. “Well, holler if you need anything.” He starts to return to his office when Hank’s cell phone rings.

 

[Unknown number]

 

Hank sighs. “Fucking credit card company again.” Nevertheless he answers. “Yeah, Anderson.”

_“Hank?”_

"Who is this?"

It’s a little girl’s voice. _“Hank is that you?”_

There is a slight machine quality, static. Almost as if the voice is being synthesised by a computer. An android doing what Chris Miller calls 'that head call thing'.

And the android girl is crying.

“Hello?” Hank says, trying to keep his voice warm and free of the concern he's feeling. “Someone give you my number, kid?”

_“I’m...I’m suppose to call Lieutenant Hank Anderson, if it gets scary.”_

“Okay.” Hank catches Fowler’s attention with a wave, beckoning him back and pointing at the phone while writing on the pad in front of him.

 

_Android kid in trouble?_

 

"Well that's me." He stands, carefully putting weight on his injured ankle. “Can you tell me what’s scaring you?”

_“The monsters.”_

“Monsters.” Hank feels his blood boil. Android or not, this was a child. He puts the phone speaker for Fowler’s benefit. “Have the ‘monsters’ hurt you?”

 _“No.”_ The girls says, tearfully. _“But they’re hurting our friends. They’re in the house. And I’m scared.”_

“Alright.” Hank is conscious of Fowler speaking on his own radio now. He needs to get information, fast. “Can you tell me your name?”

_“Milly.”_

Fowler notices the change in Hank’s expression, his mouth opening and closing several times.

Surely it wasn’t possible.

_“Are you still there? I’m scared, Hank.”_

Hank pauses, still unable to believe what was happening. "Milly. Can I speak to Connor or Gavin?”

On hearing the names, Fowler turns, mobilising the room with a hand gesture.

Hank looks back at the phone. “Milly? I need to speak to Connor.”

_“He’s sleeping. I don’t know where the other man is. I got Connor’s repair system switched on. He should wake up soon. But I think the monsters are going to hurt him again.”_

“They won’t.” Fowler says. “We’re going to stop them.”

_“Whose that?”_

“A friend of mine.” Hank says “Milly, are you able to activate Connor's tracker.”

A pause, then _“I can make it do the noises.”_

"Do you know Connor's frequency?" Fowler asks Hank.

“Yeah.” The detective takes a deep breath, steadying himself. “We’re on our way, Milly.” He grabs his gun from his desk, injured leg be damned. “We’re going to be there soon.”

The room mobilises around Hank, officers getting ready to rescue their own.

_“Am I doing good?”_

Hank wavers for a moment, a tightness in his chest. “Yeah, kid.”

 _“I’m keeping him alive. That’s my job now.”_ Milly speaks with a proud tone. _“I like it. Connor is nice.”_

“Don’t be scared anymore.” Hank says. "We're going to save them."

 _“Okay. I'm going to make the tracker do the noises now.”_ And the phone goes dead.

“Let’s move out, people!” Fowler turns back to Hank. “Whose the kid?”

Hank's voice is distant. “I’ll explain on the way.”

 


	2. Safety

**[** **Begin Boot Sequence]**

**[Mounting] [2039-10-5 15:79]**

**[RK800 S #313-248-317-51 - - Connor]**

**[Error on startup. Software Instability detected. Compensating.]**

**[Additional CPU detected.]**

**[Bypassing fault.]**

**[Software stabilising.]**

 

Connor can hear water dripping. A slow, rhythmic _drip_ _drip_ against metal. Most likely a broken tap.

 _Drip_. _Drip_.

Or Rainwater through a crack in a ceiling, falling into a bucket.

He can’t see. He can’t move. He is sat in a chair and he can’t move. He can feel why. An immobilizer disk, the sort used by Cyber Life to keep androids still during delicate repair procedures. Even Connor’s eyes won’t move. He is fixed on the wall.

 _Drip_. _Drip_.

He listens, what else can he do. _Drip_ _drip_ of water. A clock ticking in the distance. A dog barking outside.

 _Wake up._ Connor thinks. _Wake up._

He can’t move.

The chair is made of smooth wood. _Drip_. _Drip_. He can hear footsteps.

He can hear someone screaming.

 

 **[** **Objective -Protect Partner]**

 **[** **Objective -Stop attack]**

 **[** **Objective - Contact Hank Anderson - Accomplished]**

 

 _Accomplished?_ Connor blinks. Wait...he blinked. He can...he blinks again. He tries to move his eyes, and looks to the side.

The immobilizer disk is faulty. He can see to one side, can see the bucket.

He hears another scream. Laughter. More footsteps. Connor’s left foot twitches. He can move it. More footsteps. More laughter.

The door opens to an android. Female. Maybe. It’s hard to tell, the figure is twisted. “Humans make funny sounds.”

Another scream.

He feels the Android connect to his head.

 

**[Where is my friend?]**

 

And he receives a flash of memory, only Connor feels like it is his own memory now. Sees himself laying on a table, forced to look up into a light as his eye is removed.

 

**[No friend. Humans are not friends. No human friends. You lie. Do not lie. No lie. You tell truth.]**

 

More movement behind her, and she grabs Connor, pulling him to his feet and dragging him through the door. Down the stairs. Like he weighs nothing. He moves his eyes. Sees that it is still day through the window.

His hands twitch.

He is dragged into another room, a basement of some sort. Gavin is there. Hands and wrists bound to a chair.

Connor is sat opposite him.

Gavin’s face is bruised. Lip split. Connor analysis him. Nothing life threatening. Yet.

He can move his right foot. It twitches.

“What the fuck you got him down here for.” Gavin says, a laugh in his voice. “He’s one of you, assholes.”

“Human sympathiser. No friend.”

“Sympathiser.” Gavin laughs, then coughs. “That prick doesn’t sympathise with humans. He’s a fucking slave. He’s a freak just like you.”

Connor can’t speak.

Gavin laughs even as one of the disfigured androids strikes him. He spits blood.

“He is one of you. Let him go.”

The speaker turns from Connor to Gavin. “You will be one of us too, soon.”

The human sits back slightly. “What?”

The speaker approaches Connor, taking his hand. The other androids laugh.

“Humans made us monsters. Now you help us make the human a monster.”

Connor can’t move it.

His left foot twitches. The skin on his hand fades away. The skin on the speaker’s hand.

“See what human did to us.”

 

_And Connor is being torn apart. Put back together. Wrong. Wrong way. Wrong parts. A dog’s heart in place of his thyroid pump._

 

**[Stop]**

 

_Hands on his ankles. Head split open. He is holding his own brain in his hands. Blue. Blue everywhere. Hands. Feet. Pain. Cut into. Made to drag himself across the floor._

 

**[Stop]**

 

_Body melted in acid._

_Legs gone. Legs broken. Pain. Blue._

_His face falls in strips of plastic over his eyes._

_The bear tears him apart._

 

**[Stop]**

 

The hand falls away, and Connor’s LED flashes red. Red. Yellow.

Blue.

“What the FUCK did you do to him.” Gavin struggles against the restraints, thick tape binding his wrists and ankles to the chair. “Get off him you freak.”

 

 **[** **Objective - Protect Partner]**

 

Connor needs to move.

“Human into android.” The speaker says. “Piece by piece.”

And she punches through Connor’s chest.

“No!” He hears Gavin shout.

 

**[Error. Biocomponent #8451 removed]**

**[Shutdown in 63]**

**[Shutdown in 62]**

**[** **Objective - Protect Partner]**

 **[** **Objective - Prevent Shutdown]**

 **[** **Objective - Stop Attack]**

 

The speaker turns to Gavin.

“You put that back.” Gavin shouts. “You FUCKING put it BACK.” He’s grabbed, held steady as one approaches. They have a knife ready to cut into his chest, over his heart. “Get OFF me.”

Connor can smell blood.

 

**[Shutdown in 55]**

 

Connor’s LED is yellow. He is going to fail his mission if he doesn’t move.

His foot twitches.

 

**[Shutdown in 50]**

 

And Connor falls sideways with the chair, hitting the ground hard enough for the sound to echo. The androids all turn as one unit, eyes fixed on him.

The room fills with sickening laughter.

And...gunfire.

And screams.

And silence.

“DPD!”

 

 **[** **Objective - Protect Partner]**

 **[** **Objective - Prevent Shutdown]**

 **[** **Objective - Stop attack - Redundant]**

 

“Connor.” Hank is in front of the android, holding his shoulders, and Connor feels the bicomponent being put back into his chest.

 

**[Shutdown cancelled]**

**[** **Objective - Protect Partner]**

 **[** **Objective - Prevent Shutdown - Accomplished]**

 

The immobilizer disk is ripped away from the back of Connor’s neck just before Hank pulls him into a desperate hug. “It’s okay. I’ve got you. Jesus Christ, Connor.”

 

 **[** **Embrace. Offers comfort, protection, feeling of safety, family, affection. Appropriate response, return embrace]**

 

“I am perfectly fine, Lieutenant.” Connor says, calmly as his arms come up. 

Hank pulls back. “You will be, Kid.” Hank returns the smile, cupping the side of Connor’s face as he looks him up and down. God there’s so much thirium. “You hurt anywhere else?”

The Android shakes his head. He feels no pain. He doesn’t... _feel_...anything.

“Get those restrains off him.” He hears Fowler shout.

“How did you find us, Lieutenant?” Connor’s tone bright with curiosity.

“Let’s just say you’ve got a Guardian Angel running around in there.” Hank says, tapping the side of Connor’s head.

“Get AWAY FROM ME.”

Connor’s attention is caught by Gavin’s voice, and he steps out of the embrace to look round, watching as Fowler and Collins slowly raise their hands, like they are dealing with a wild animal.

Still bound to the chair, Gavin presses his eyes shut. Blocking out the room.

“Easy, Gavin. We got the fuckers.” Ben kicks one of the dead androids in the head. "Those that ain't dead are in cuffs. We got them. You're safe."

"It's safe." Fowler is saying, taking a step forward only to slowly take it back when Gavin literally growls at him.

"Get BACK."

“You’re safe now.” The Captain looks from Hank to Connor as the Android, LED yellow, walks past the captain to stand between him and the detective.

 

 **[** **Objective - Protect Partner]**

 

“I need you to stand back please, Captain.”

Fowler grabs the androids shoulder. “He’s bleeding. Paramedics need to…”

“They will, when he is ready.” Connor calmly pushes Fowler’s hand away, and approaches Gavin.

“I said STAY AWAY.” Gavin screams, eyes wild as they fix on the Android. “Don’t fucking touch me.”

“I am two and a half feet away.” Connor says, holding his arms wide. “I have no weapons, and I won’t touch you. I’m just going to stay here, and make sure you have a safe space, Detective. No one will get past me, so no one will get to you.”

“Plastic freaks.” Gavin curls in on himself as much as the restraints allowed. “They were going to…”

“Yes.”

“They were going to do to...what was done to them. They were going to put…” Gavin’s looks down at his chest . “They were going to fucking do that to ME.”

“But they didn’t.” Connor kneels down. This is a negotiation, and he wants Gavin to be looking down on him. “I would like to scan you, to check for injury. I won’t need to physically touch you. Is that okay?”

Gavin bites his lip, focusing on Connor like he’s the only person in the room. “Will I feel it?”

“No.”

Gavin nods, closing his eyes as Connor looks him up and down. “You have minor physical injuries, however I do not believe that you require anything beyond basic medical attention.” He looks over his shoulder at Fowler. “He does not require the paramedics.”

Fowler crosses his arms, looking at Hank. The Lieutenant just nods. He trusts Connor. And Fowler trusts Hank. “Okay.” And he goes to talk into his radio.

Connor turns back to the detective. “You also have a severe imbalance of cortisol and serotonin. Your stress levels are much too high. You need to calm down, Detective. That would be easier if I removed your restraints.” Connor holds out his hand and Collins, without needing to be asked, gives him a sharp knife. “I promise I won’t touch you or harm you. I have advanced hand eye coordination.” He holds up the knife, letting Gavin study it.

The detective is still clearly freaking out, but he nods, eyes squeezed shut again, but quickly opening when Connor moves closer to the chair.

“The restraints are tight. I apologise, you may feel a painful sensation as full blood flow returns to your hands and feet. This will pass. Ready? I will begin with your left wrist.” He waits a second, then cuts. “And now right.”

As soon as his arms are free, Gavin crosses his arms over his chest.

“Left ankle. Now right.”

And Gavin can’t get out of the chair fast enough, falling to the ground, barely able to breath for how much he’s panicking as he scurries backwards, stopping only when he hits the wall.

 

 **[** **Objective - Protect Partner]**

 **[** **Embrace. Offers comfort, protection, feeling of safety, family, affection]**

 

Connor hands Collin’s back the knife, staying knelt down for the moment.

 

**[Scanning DPD database. Reed, Gavin. 2002-10-07. Next of kin: None (former Ward of State). Emergency Contact: Jeffrey Fowler.]**

 

“Lieutenant Anderson has sustained an injury to his right leg.” Connor says. “He will need to sit down to rest it. If you would permit him to sit with you, it may help you to feel safer. I know from experience that he can have that effect.”

Despite the situation, Hank can’t help the sense of pride that that produces. He nods as Connor looks up at him.

“Perhaps Captain Fowler can sit with you as well.” The android continues. “I know he cares deeply about everyone under his command, and will want to help you to feel safe.”

“Course I do, son.” Fowler says, addressing Gavin directly.

“They are humans, not androids.” Connor is saying. “They stopped you from being harmed. You have worked on many cases with them. You know they won’t hurt you.”

Gavin doesn’t look at any of them, focusing instead on a patch of the floor. But he nods.

“Okay.” Hank whispers as, with Connor’s help, he sits down. “Hey kid.”

Fowler sits on Gavin’s other side,  waiting a moment before placing an arm around the detective. He expects Gavin to flinch, or shout, or at least throw an insult. What he doesn’t expect is for the younger man lean over and to curl up into his side.

A small part of Gavin knows he is going to regret this later. But right now he is exhausted and pained and still seeing disfigured androids in the corners of his eyes, clawing at his...they were going to cut out his fucking heart...and it still doesn’t feel like it’s over and he wants to cry. And the arms around him feel strong, more than capable of fighting off the world and protecting him.

He buries his face in Fowler’s  jacket, and feels the Captain tighten his hold.

 

 **[** **Objective - Protect Partner - Accomplished]**

 

Connor stands, fixing his tie. “I will process the crime scene.”

“CSI can handle that.” Fowler looks at Connor’s chest. “And you need repairs.”

“I will only be a few minutes.” Connor argues, calmly. “I assure you that I am not in need of urgent repair although I … appreciate...the concern, Captain.”

Hank shakes his head, holding up one hand in a gesture of surrender. “Let him, Jeffrey. If that’s what he needs to do to deal with this.” He turns to the Android. “No licking anything though.”

“I will attempt to refrain from taking oral samples.” Connor says, before wandering off, senses already taking in as much information as he can from the various android corpses and broken machinery that now litters the room.

“ _Attempt_ to refrain.” Hank says under his breath, as he briefly makes eye contact with one of the SWAT officers, shrugging in response to their confused expression. Slowly, the other officers leave, all sparing a brief glance at Gavin, who lays against Fowler in a depressed doze, face hidden.

“You heading back to the precinct, Captain?” Chris asks.

Fowler shakes his head. “Going to take these boys straight home.”

Chris nods, sparing Gavin a sympathetic look before turning to look at Connor. “Android seems to be doing okay.”

Running a gentle hand up and down Gavin’s back, Hank watches as Connor scans the crime scene. Chris is right, and Hank can’t help but think about that first case, in Carlos Ortiz’s house, as he watches Connor move around the room like a machine.

The machine he stopped being nearly a year ago.

_Jesus, Connor. What did they do to your mind._

“So.” Hank says, quietly. “What happened here, Connor?”

Connor smiles. No, not a smile. It is THAT expression. The one he gave him in Jimmy’s bar. The ‘smile’ of a machine pretending to be human, and doing a bad job of it.

A machine going through the motions. Not a deviant. Not _alive_.

“Well, Lieutenant. We came here to question Zlatko Andronikov…”


	3. Recharge

Ting

Ting

Ting

Fowler is quiet as he drives through the rain, his eyes occasionally peering into the rearview mirror to watch Connor playing with the damn coin.

The android’s eyes are fixed ahead, LED yellow as the coin flies up into the air, is caught, and thrown up again.

On the seat next to Connor, Gavin is fast asleep. His arms are crossed across his chest and head tilted forward, the seat belt probably the only thing stopping the detective from sliding to the floor of the car.

Sat in the front passenger seat, Hank uses his fingers to drum a quiet beat on the dashboard. “You doing okay, Connor.”

“Absolutely fine, Lieutenant.”

Fowler can tell from Hank’s body language that his friend is not happy with that answer.

Fowler sighs, slowing the car down slightly while he turns into the street and parks. “Gavin?” He calls, reaching round behind him to tap the detective’s leg. “Gavin.” He tries a bit louder, only for Hank to rest a hand on his arm.

“I vote we let him sleep.”

Fowler turns to Connor. “Can you reach his keys?”

Connor gently pulls the keys from his own pocket, handing them to the Captain. “The blue key.”

Gavin mumbles unintelligibly in his sleep, but doesn’t wake.

“Why do you have a key to Reed’s house?”

“I am afraid that I can not answer that question. I promised not to tell anyone at the precinct.”

Hank rolls his eyes, pinching the bridge of his nose

“Right.” Fowler looks ahead as he thinks. “PJ’s, toothbrush, change of clothes.” He looks at the detective in the rearview mirror. “Is he on medication?”

“Yes.” Connor says, brightly. “Perhaps I should accompany you, Captain. I know where Detective Reed stores all of the things he will need.”

“How?” Fowler shakes his head before, with a chuckle, he opens the door. “Right. Let’s be quick then Detective Anderson.”

Connor nods, getting out of the car and closing the door quietly behind him. Hank watches them let themselves into the house, then closes his eyes, resting against the headrest as he smiles. “He _still_ helping you with the housework, huh?” He asks the sleeping figure behind him. “Yeah. He’s a good kid.”

Hank’s eyes open, fixed on the ceiling. His leg is starting to hurt again and he welcomes the distraction for a moment, focusing on the gentle throb while the rest of his thoughts order.

Try as he might, he can’t stop his mind from constantly drifting back to one single thought.  

Connor’s behaviour since they found him.

That smile.

They still didn’t know much about deviancy, but a common pattern was that it could be triggered by high stress or a traumatic experience.

So, could such an experience trigger the deviancy to reverse.

No. Hank shook his head, mentally slapping himself. He _had_ to believe that that was not possible. It had only been a few hours, Hank was jumping the gun. Connor was probably just in whatever classed as shock for androids. The fucking house they had just rescued him from was pretty solid evidence that androids did not handle trauma well. So Connor just needed time to get past it, with Hank’s help, and then everything would be fine. Yes.

But what if...

The knot in his stomach feels like a rock, and he shifts slightly in his seat, eyes turning back to the house, before turning to look at its sleeping owner in the back of the car. He feels a sudden sense of, he isn’t sure what, protectiveness maybe. Hank doesn’t have a lot of time for the asshole, but he is still a Father and those instincts are hard to shake. And he had genuinely wanted to sit with and comfort the younger man earlier, and help him to feel safe.

 _Maybe that’s all that Connor needs_ . He thinks. _He just needs me to help_ him _to feel safe too_.

He remembers what the android had said back at the house.

_“If you would permit him to sit with you, it may help you to feel safer. I know from experience that he can have that effect.”_

Gavin starts to fidget in his sleep, murmuring slightly, and Hank turns so that he is sat sideways in his seat. “Easy, kid. Relax.”

Gavin’s eyes crack open, looking at Hank, but clearly not really awake yet.

“Just getting you a bag packed. You’re staying at Fowler’s tonight.”

Gavin wakes up a bit, mumbling as he straightens in his seat, hands clutching the belt. “I don’t need a fucking babysitter, Anderson.”

“No, but you shouldn’t be alone tonight either.”

“Said I can fucking take care of myself, dipshit.” He says as he starts undoing the seat belt.

“No one’s saying you can’t.” Hank says, raising his voice as he turns back round in his seat to face Gavin again. “But that doesn’t mean that you SHOULD. So why don’t you drop the asshole act for ONE night and just accept some fucking hospitality. You really want to be alone tonight? After the shit you went through today.”

With a defeated sigh, Gavin settles back in the seat. Accepting his victory, Hank turns back round to face the front.

“...laughing.”

“Who's laughing?”

“Ben, Chris, Tina. _Fowler_...Connor” He lists them on his fingers. “They all saw me freak out at the crime scene. I fucking cried like a stupid kid. They’re all going to think I’m...”

“Weak?”

Gavin crosses his arms, eyes fixed on the floor.

“You think Miller is weak?”

“Chris?” Gavin looks up. “Fuck no. Toughest bastard I know.”

“Yeah. Because Chris cried when androids pulled a gun on him.” Hank says. “Ben and Tina both cried first time they had to shoot someone. So did I when I watched a teenager OD on red ice.” He makes eye contact through the rearview mirror. “I cried right onto Fowler’s fucking shoulder, and he had me and Cole stay at his place that evening. Just like you’re about to. So, do you think I’m weak, Gavin.”

The younger man shakes his head, his hands slipping down to rest in his lap.

Hank crosses his arms. “And you know, Connor lead an army. All over the news, him marching with those androids. Thousand strong, all following him. Same Connor that sat in my arms sobbing because of how much pain he was in. Tears don’t make you weak, asshole. And neither does accepting comfort from someone. And no one is laughing at you for either.”

Gavin lays back, closing his eyes as he loses out his battle with exhaustion.

“Besides, Connor told me that you kept trying to convince those bastards to free him. Put someone’s safety before your own. That’s pretty brave.”

That earns a smile from the younger man.

A few minute later, Connor and Fowler emerge from the house, Connor carrying a duffle bag which Fowler helps him to put in the trunk before they return to the car.

“Okay.” Fowler says as he climbs back into the car.

Hank settles back in the car, his anger from earlier dissipated for now, and notices that Fowler is carrying his phone. “You call Rachel?”

“Yeah.” Fowler grins. “She’s in mother bear mode.”

Hank laughs. Fowler’s wife is a force to be reckoned with.

He looks into the rearview mirror. Connor is sat up straight, LED blinking as he slips into low power mode.

Fowler pulls onto the main road. “Next stop, your place.”

Hank smiles, encouragingly. “Let’s get you home, Connor.”

 

* * *

 

 

 **[** **Objective - Help Hank]**

 

Connor opens the front door, greeting an excited Sumo with a quick scratch behind both ears before helping Hank to hobble over to the couch, resting him with his injured leg placed on a cushion on the coffee table. “Can I get you anything to eat or drink?”

Hank shakes his head, eyes closed as he rests against the back of the couch, Sumo beside him. “Why don’t you go get changed?”

 

 **[** **Objective -Change into Nightwear]**

 

Going into his bedroom, Connor looks down, noticing how ruffled and torn his suit is. Some thirium stains, and a crimson mark on the left sleeve. He studies it for a moment, analysing the details from the scan before removing the clothing in favour of pyjama pants and a t-shirt. This done he moves to the bedside table of his room to water his potted plant because he always does that before going into sleep mode.

Bruno. Hank liked to call the plant Bruno.

He doesn’t have any opinion about naming the plant.

Machines don’t feel anything.

 

 **[** **Objective - water Bruno - complete]**

 **[** **Objective - Check on Hank]**

**[Feelings are bad]**

**[** **Objective - Remain machine]**

 

He flinched, swiping at his eye, but the objective kept hovering.

 

 **[** **Objective - Remain machine]**

 

He can’t deviate from the command.

 

 **[** **Objective - Remain machine]**

 

“Connor?” Hank is standing in the doorway, arms crossed as he leans against the frame.

“Lieutenant Anderson, you need to rest your injury to prevent further damage.”

“I will.” Hank says, lightly. “You going to bed, or joining me on the couch for a bit?”

 

 **[** **Objective - Check on Hank - Complete]**

 **[** **Choice 1 - Go to Bed]**

 **[** **Choice 2 - Join Hank on Couch]**

 **[** **Choice 3 - Recharge in Corner]**

**[Feelings are bad]**

**[** **Objective - Remain machine]**

 **[** **Objective - Recharge in Corner]**

 

“I will enter sleep mode now, Lieutenant Anderson, if you promise to rest your injury.”

Hank rolls his eyes. “Stop fussing. I’m fine. Not like I broke the fucking thing.”

“Nevertheless, it is sprained.” Connor says.

“Fine. Come on then.” Hobbling over, Hank grabs Connor before the Android can retreat into the corner, and brings him over to the bed, pulling the duvet aside and waiting for the Android to climb in.

 

 **[** **Choice 3 - Recharge in Corner]**

 

“This arrangement is not necessary for sleep mode in androids.”

“Humour me.” Hank snaps.

 

**[Software Instability]**

 

Connor quietly climbs into the bed, letting Hank pull the duvet up over him. He lays on his back, eyes fixed on the ceiling as Hank grabs the desk chair and moves it up beside the bed.

“Thought we could just sit quietly for a while.” Hank says, rearranging the duvet while the room falls into silence apart from rain against the roof.

Hank’s voice is low. “How are you feeling, Connor?”

“I am okay, Lieutenant.”

“Really? After the day you’ve just had?”

“There was danger. It is no longer a problem. The deviants were stopped.”

 

_Hands on his ankles. Head split open. He is holding his own brain in his hands. Blue. Blue everywhere. Hands. Feet. Pain. Cut into. Made to drag himself across the floor._

 

Connor takes one of the pillows he isn’t using, and wraps his arms around it. Almost on instinct, and without realising, the Android curls up onto his side under the duvet.

“You want a hug, Connor?”

“That is not necessary, lieutenant.” Connor should be comforting Hank, who is injured.

“Didn’t ask if it was necessary. I asked if you wanted one?”

“Do...do you want one?”

 

 **[** **Embrace. Offers comfort, pr** **otection, feeling of safety, family, affection]**

 

“Yeah.” Hank smiles, sitting on the bed with his arms already widening as Connor sits up and leans forward, resting his arms around Hank’s middle. He feels the detective run a hand up and down his back.

Connor trembles.

 

**[Feelings are bad]**

**[** **Objective - Remain machine]**

 

Hank starts running a slow hand through Connor’s hair over and over.

Over and over.

Over and over.

Connor feels the moisture pool beneath his eyes as sits there, peering over Hank’s shoulder, staring out into nothing.

He can’t be crying. Machines don’t feel anything. He doesn't feel anything. Why is he crying?

 

 **[** **Objective - Remain machine]**

 

“I know you’re still in there, Conner.” Hank is whispering, as he leans back, his finger brushing away some of the tears. At the end of the bed, Sumo curls up. “Just tell me whatever you need. I want you to feel safe, son.”

Safe. There is no immediate danger.

No safe is a feeling.

 

 **[** **Objective - Remain machine]**

 

“I don’t feel anything, Hank.”

“You do Connor, you’re alive.”

“No.” And yet he is crying. He feels numb, the buzz of programming and subroutines, but nothing else. Why is he crying? “Ever since...I can’t FEEL anything.”

Because Hank is there, and Hank means safe.

Safe to feel.

Hank makes it safe to not be a machine.

 

**[I am deviant]**

 

And he sobs, leaning into Hank and managing to shut out the messages, fighting for control for a few precious moments. Hank continues to hold him, a comforting and constant presence.

 

_He is made to see himself in the mirror. He screams._

 

**[Feelings are bad]**

**[** **Objective - Remain machine]**

**[I am deviant]**

**[Software Instability]**

**[Feelings are bad]**

**[** **Objective - Remain machine]**

**[I am deviant]**

**[Software Instability]**

**[** **Objective - Remain machine]**

 **[** **Objective - Remain machine]**

 **[** **Objective - Remain machine]**

 

And Connor pulls away, sitting up, knees drawn against his chest. He wipes his eyes, and smiles at Hank. “I am fine, Lieutenant.”

He pulls his hand away when Hank tries to take it, and the detective sits back, arms wide.

“Talk to me, Son.”

Connor’s smile falters. ”I don’t want to hurt anymore.”

Hank swallows around the lump in his throat. Connor’s tone is almost childlike.

“You won’t hurt now, not while I’m here. We will get you through this, just like we got through all the other shit. Remember.”

 

**[Software Instability]**

 

Connor climbs off the bed, going to stand in the corner of the room, facing it, arms straight at his sides.  

“Am I broken?”

“Do you feel like you’re malfunctioning?” Hank stands beside him.

 

**[I am deviant]**

**[Software Instability]**

 

“I don’t know.” He whispers. “I don’t feel anything.”

“You’re crying?”

Connor rubs at his eye, analysing the moisture.

“I don’t know why?”

Hank nods, rests a hand on the Android’s shoulder, encouraging him back to the bed.

He sighs. “First thing tomorrow, I’ll take you to Jericho.”

“Jericho.” Connor echoes.

 

**[Feelings are bad]**

**[** **Objective - Remain machine]**

**[Power 10%]**

**[Engage Sleep Mode]**

 

“I’m right here, Connor. Go to sleep. Everything is going to be okay. I promise.”

“Okay.”

And Connor can feel Hank holding his hand, giving it a gentle squeeze. 

 

 **[** **Objective - Remain machine]**

 

He gently squeezes it back.


	4. Morning

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bit of a filler chapter. This was originally going to be the first part of a much larger chapter, but I am struggling with pacing on the next part, so rather than wait ages for the next update, please accept the overblown prologue to chapter 5 :-D
> 
> Thank you everyone who has been reviewing and leaving kudos :-) I always get stupidly excited whenever I see them!!!

The sun is only just starting to rise as Connor walks through the park, stopping at a bench similar to the one where Hank had once pointed a gun at his head.

 

_What about you, Connor? You look human, you sound human, but what are you really?_

 

Connor sits on the bench, pulling at his beanie so it better covers his ears before shoving his cold hands back into his pockets.

 

_Just a machine. Designed to accomplish a task._

 

There’s barking, and Connor looks down to see Sumo at his feet, holding a stick in his mouth. Connor takes the stick, waiting for Sumo to let go before throwing it down the path. The dog takes off after it, and Connor watches.

He knows he should be smiling.

 

 **[** **Objective - Remain machine]**

 

Connor shakes his head, looking back up as Sumo comes running back with the stick. He looks down at the dog and takes hold of the stick again, waiting for Sumo to let go.

The stick goes further down the path. The dog runs after it.

Connor loves Sumo. He remembers telling people that. Telling Ben how much he loves watching Sumo play. He loves these mornings in the park, sneaking out before Hank wakes up, just having fun for a while. No mission. No objective besides throw the stick…

 

 **[** **Objective - Remain machine]**

 

And Connor suddenly feels the need to smash something. Break through a wall he can’t even see. Break through _someone_ that isn’t there.

 

_The hook digs into his back, holding him above the ground, naked and skin removed._

_He can’t feel his legs. He looks down._

_They’re gone._

 

“You alright, buddy?”

Connor realises that he is on his knees (his legs are still there. Skin) and he slowly stands, posture straight as he nods at the jogger. “I am fine, thank you.”

“Sure? I mean, you have some kind of glitch or something? Maybe I should call someone for you”

“I am well, I simply forgot to compensate for the uneven path. Thank you for your concern. Have a good day.”

“Yeah, you too.” The guy gives Connor a lazy salute, and jogs on. Connor watches after him, then sits on the bench, analysing the change in temperature and light levels as the sun continues to rise.

He looks down the path. Waits for Sumo to come back.

Waits.

Waits.

“Sumo?”

 

 **[** **Objective - Locate Sumo]**

 

LED flashing yellow, Connor walks up the promenade, looking through the trees. “Sumo!” He calls, louder. “SUMO.”

His shouts attract some attention from other walkers.

 

 **[** **Objective - Locate Sumo]**

 

“SUMO.” And he scans the park, picking up on every single detail. He is concerned that the dog has come to harm. Such an event will cause Hank upset.

“SUMO!” Connor leaves the path, going into the trees. He spins on the spot, looking in all directions. And there, sat at the base of a tree, looking up at a bird, tail wagging.

 

 **[** **Objective - Locate Sumo - Accomplished]**

 

“Sumo.” Connor runs up to the dog, clipping the leash to his harness and kneeling beside him.

And Connor knows that he should hug the dog, so he does.

“You should not wander off. Hank would have been worried.”

Was Connor?

The android sits back on his heels, looking from the ground to the dog.

The dog barks, licking his face, then gives an annoyed grumble as Connor sits back. The Android stands, tightening the zipper on his coat in place of fixing his tie. “We should return home. Hank wants to take me to Jericho later. Hopefully they can find out what malfunction is causing me to be unable to feel emotions.”

He walks home, Sumo trotting along beside him.

He enjoys these mornings with Sumo.

He should FEEL something.

He forces a smile on his face, and wishes it was real. 

 

* * *

 

The first thing that Gavin is aware of, as he wakes up, is that there is a cat curled up beside him, head rested against his arm.

The second thing he is aware of is that the bedding he is currently laid face down in smells of fabric softener.

The third thing he is aware of is that he doesn’t own a cat.

The cat purrs as Gavin turns slightly, allowing him to reach out and scratch it under the chin as realisation dawns. “Hey Hufflepuff.”

Gavin’s tired mind thinks back to Fowler’s 4th of July BBQ, with Ben’s kids wowing over Connor’s coin tricks, and Hank and the Captain arguing over the correct way to grill a steak.

Gavin’s mental health was on a downward spiral at that point, and he was only there because Connor had insisted that he be there. Actually, in the eyes of the law, Connor had pretty much kidnapped the detective.

Nevertheless, he wound up being glad that he went, or rather allowed himself to be dragged. He had spent most of the afternoon sat out of the way in the corner of the yard, with Damian Miller sleeping in his lap and Hufflepuff gently pawing at his hand every time Gavin had the audacity to stop petting him.

The memory of it makes him smile.

Then remembers that he is in the Fowler’s guest room. And he remembers why he is there.

Groaning, Gavin climbs out of bed, fighting to control the lead weights that have apparently replaced his arms and legs. He looks down and notices that he is wearing pyjamas, and decides that he doesn’t want to know the answer to the question _Who dressed me_?

Gavin’s strength gives out near the top of the stairs, and he sits there for a while, listening to the activity downstairs. A television playing the morning news, a coffee machine running, and two people talking.

“I’ve got to go into the precinct later.” He hears Fowler say. “There’s been a development on that Smithson case.”

“Good.” Gavin recognises the second voice as Fowler’s wife, Rachel. “Poor girl strung up and hanged like that. Ain’t right the bastard that did it being out there.”

“We’ll catch him.” There’s a pause, and he guesses Fowler’s watching the news because he says next. “Great. More rain.”

Gavin leans against the wall, listening to the Fowler’s chat and feeling like a kid listening in on his parents. The daydream makes him smile as he imagines himself being part of this normal family that he could only have dreamed of growing up.

He rubs at his eye, drying his fingers on the pyjama pants.

“You going to be okay with him?”

“Worried about leaving the two of us alone together.” Gavin brings a hand to his mouth to muffle his laughter at Rachel’s tease.

“I don’t think you’re his type, gender wise.” Gavin coughs, surprised. How the fuck did Fowler find THAT one out. “I’m more worried about leaving you alone with an arrogant prick.”

“And which of us used to work in a prison?” Rachel scolds, humorously. “Don’t you worry. I can handle whatever attitude he wants to try throwing at me.”

Gavin laughs again. Challenge accepted, Rachel.

“Now go and get ready to make the world a place of peace and justice.” She continues. “Go see if that boy’s awake as well.”

"Yes Ma'am." Fowler appears at the bottom of the stairs, having been successfully shooed from the kitchen. He climbs the stairs quickly, giving Gavin a quick nod as he passes him. No nonsense. As if finding a pyjama clad detective sat at the top of the stairs is an everyday occurrence.

“Wouldn’t you be more comfortable on the couch?” He asks before he disappears into the master bedroom.

Gavin encourages the cat over to him as it emerges from the guest bedroom.

Fowler comes back out onto the landing, carrying a towel and a hanger with his usual work attire. “Better behave for Rachel today, or I’ll have your badge.”

“You know, I could always go to the precinct with you.” Gavin says with an annoyed tone. “Not like I’m actually sick or anything.”

Fowler shakes his head, stopping at the bathroom door and turning to look at the detective. “Take a duvet day, Gavin. You’ve earned it.”

Gavin doesn’t say anything to that. He knows that changing Fowler’s mind is akin to stopping the sun from rising. Plus he honestly wants nothing more than to spend a day or five tucked up in a bed right now, not that he will admit to it if anyone asks.

“You taken your meds?” Fowler asks.

“Need to eat first.” The detective is looking down at Hufflepuff, so doesn’t see Fowler’s hand until it comes to rest on his shoulder.

“You’re a guest here, Gavin. You need something to eat, you just ask, okay.”

"Thanks." Gavin doesn't have the energy to respond with any of his usual snark or attitude. He can feel his emotions just below the surface, and the fight to keep things under control (Fowler’s already seen him cry enough for one lifetime) leaves him feeling heavy.

Suddenly he’s being sat back up, held by a hand on each shoulder to stop him from toppling forward down the stairs. Fowler is crouched behind him.

“Right. Back to bed.” The Captain orders.

Gavin returns to the guest room under his own steam, and collapses on the bed. He curls up on his side, facing the wall, and allows himself to lose time for a while.

The next thing Gavin knows, the duvet has been pulled over him. There is a sandwich on the bedside table, next to his meds, and he can hear Rachel singing along to the radio downstairs.

Yawning, he closes his eyes, and daydreams some more.

 

* * *

 

Hank wakes up to the smell of wet dog.

“Sumo, NO!” And there is a crash from the bathroom.

Smiling, Hank stumbles out of the bed, barely feeling the weight on his injured leg as he opens the bathroom door to a scene that can only be described as chaos. Towels and soap suds cover the floor, and Sumo is currently stood in the middle of the bathroom, on the tail end of having shook himself dry all over Connor. The android is sat in the corner of the bathroom, his t-shirt soaked through, and hair plastered over his forehead.

Hank doesn’t think he’s ever looked younger.

“Connor.” Hank crosses his arms as he leans on the doorframe. “What are you doing?”

Connor shakes his head, pointing at the bathtub. “It is an experimenting, Lieutenant.”

“You’re experimenting on my dog?”

“No. I am experimenting with activities that normally elicit emotional responses. And giving Sumo a bath is always a humorous experience.” Connor suddenly lunges forward as the dog runs. “Sumo!”

Hank just manages to dodge the high speed tornado that is the giant St Bernard as he runs past and, still soaking wet, jumps on the couch.

“Great.” Hank throws his hands up in the air.

Connor looks round the door, watching the dog. “It isn’t working.”

“Nothing at all?” Hank puts a hand on Connor’s shoulder. “You’re smiling?”

“A default expression. Number #17 if you are curious.” The android’s expression goes blank.

“Did you at least _want_ to give Sumo his bath.”

“Yes. I wish to further explore the malfunction that Zlatko’s androids have caused.”

“And it wasn’t because you _enjoy_ it?”

“Maybe.” Connor shakes his head. “When can we leave for Jericho?”

“Soon as we’re ready.” Hank indicates Connor’s wet attire. “You might want to get changed first.”

“Yes.” Connor picks up a towel, and tiptoes around Hank to go into his bedroom, closing the door.

“Just hope they can fix you, kid.” Hank whispers, before grabbing another towel and going after Sumo.


	5. Nightmares

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please note new tags

The Jericho building is an old warehouse on the outskirts of the city. A dreary, rundown exterior that leads for a jarring experience when one goes through the door to find themselves surrounded by a modern, indoor metropolis of small pop up buildings, plants and computers. Next to the entrance is a small, open plan lounge that always has androids and their human friends relaxing in front of the television, while further on there are workshops, and even a small school. 

Hank sees Josh, Markus’s PJ500 friend, teaching a class that, to the Lieutenant’s surprise, seems to be a mixture of android and human children.

“Everyone say with me. Como…” He pauses, encouraging with his hands for everyone to join in. “Como estas? Good.” He points at one of the human children. “Como estas?”

The little girl giggles, squirming with humoured embarrassment as everyone looks at her. “Yo bien.”

“Good.” Josh smiles, nodding in Hank’s direction as he looks up and the two make eye contact. “Everyone find a partner and practice your greetings.” He tilts his head to the side, and Hank gets the message, tapping Connor on the shoulder and indicating their direction of travel.

Josh shakes Hank’s hand, then greets Connor with an embrace that the android stiffly returns. Hank can see the way Josh’s expression changes as he realises the difference to Connor’s usually enthusiastic demeanour. “So it’s true what North said. You’ve lost rA9.” He rests a hand on the side of Connor’s chin, looking him in the eye. “I’m sorry. I...I hope we can fix it.”

“Thank you, Josh.” Connor says, smiling with default expression #17. “Is Markus here?”

“Markus and Simon are still in DC. We’re expecting them back tonight.” Josh turns to Hank. “North’s got the diagnostic suit all set up. She’ll meet you in there. I...um...better get back to school.”

Hank nods. “16 kids vs 1 android. Buena suerte.”

Josh laughs, and pats Hank on the shoulder. “Speak to you soon, you too Connor.”

“Come on, Son.” Hank puts an arm around Connor’s shoulder. 

He knows where the diagnostic suits are, having taken Connor there enough times when his CPU was trying to kill him. North is leant against the wall beside the entrance, her posture relaxed as she fiddles with the edge of her long hair. 

She nods in greeting. “Henry.”

“South.” Hank replies, returning her fond half smile before turning to look at Connor, tilting his head to one side to indicate that the android go with North. 

Hank follows them, arms crossed. “So, you seen this before?”

Connor looks at Hank, his expression inquisitive as North encourages him onto the diagnostic bed. 

“Not that I’m aware of.” She looks at Connor. “Seen androids go pretty crazy, but actually losing their rA9. That’s a new one. Still, you’re an RK series prototype, same as Marcus, so new does comes with the territory.” She encourages the android to lay down, giving him a smile. “Going to need you to go into deep sleep mode for diagnostic.”

“Certainly.” And Connor, without another word, closes his eyes, LED starting a rhythmic blink of blue light.

“Okay. North turns away, typing into a terminal before turning back to Connor. She looks up at Hank. “I’m going to deactivate his skin. Just warning you, Henry?”

“Seen it before.” Hank reassures her, deliberately keeping his expression neutral as Connor’s skin fades away to white panels and serial codes. This done, North removes one of the panels on the side of Connor’s head, and plugs in a cable from the terminal beside her. “Okay, diagnostic programme running. We should have results in 1 hour.” She turns to Hank. “Hungry?”

“He’ll be okay?”

“I’m hacked into that.” North points past Hank, and he turns to see a camera on the wall, focused on Connor. “Got my eye on him. Come on. We started a canteen for the human residents. It’s no Chicken Feed, but I’ve been told the bacon is to die for.”

“Lead the way, South.” Hank says, following North out of the suit, but unable to resist one last glance in Connor’s direction before North closes the door, locking it.

“So, how come you’re not in DC with your boyfriend?”

North shrugs. “Markus was worried I might be too…” She mock whispers into his ear “... _ confrontational _ during the debates.”

Hank widens his eyes. “What made him think that?” 

She laughs. “I’d rather be here than sat in a room full of humans.” She stops suddenly, looking at Hank. “No offense.”

“Don’t blame you.” Hank pats her on the back. “Human’s are a pain in the ass.”

“Nah, you’re not  _ all _ bad. I mean. I hear rumours of good humans out there.” Her expression falls as she looks at the canteen. “Oh God, what’s he doing there? RALPH!”

The android in question is stood in the middle of the canteen, dressed in a comfortable running suit and wrapped in a blanket. “Ralph wants to make friends.”

“Ralph shouldn’t be here by himself.” North says, keeping her voice bright and friendly. “Remember how North and Ralph talked about Ralph staying away from places that have sharp knives?”

“Because Ralph can’t control his anger sometimes.” He looks down, his shame clear.

“Hey You’re getting better, but you’re not all better yet.” North smiles. “That’s why you’ve got me looking out for you.” She gently punches his shoulder, earning a giggle.

Hank addresses the scarred android. “Do you...um...does  _ Ralph _ ...want to join us?” He looks at North, who nods approvingly. 

The android in question dances on the spot, his eyes bright. 

“Come on then.” North pats her fellow Android  on the shoulder. “Ralph, this is Henry Cole Anderson.”

“Hank.” Hank offers his hand while glaring at North, who gives him an evil grin.

Ralph looks at Hank’s offered hand, before shaking it with both of his own and very nearly tearing the Lieutenant’s arm off. “Ralph knows Hank. You and Connor were hunting Kara. And the little one.”

“Yes.” Hank nods. “Good to see you again.”

Ralph smiles as they sit at a table. “Did they make it? Are they safe?”

“They’re in Canada with Luther.” Hank says. “And they’re safe. Alice emails Connor from time to time.”

“Luther?” Ralph looks away, his LED yellow. “A friend?” The LED turns blue when Hank nods. “They have a friend. Ralph couldn’t be their friend, but Luther can.” He smiles. “Ralph is happy they have a friend. Little Alice deserves a family. Kara too.”

Hank returns the nod, unable to help the concerned expression on his face as that familiar feeling of protectiveness comes over him.

Damn, he was going soft.

Mistaking the reason for his worry, North blinks for a few seconds, then looks back at Hank. “Connor is fine. Just checked in on him.”

“Is it true?” Ralph says. “That Connor stopped being like us...deviant?”

“It...it might be.” Hank looks at his hands on the table. “We’re looking into that.”

“Can Connor teach Ralph?” He asks, his voice low. 

“Ralph?” North whispers, a surprised tone in her voice.

The Android ignores her. “Ralph has a lot of bad feelings. Especially when he is asleep.” He wraps his arms around himself. “Ralph doesn’t like sleeping. Ralph wants to learn to not feel. To be like how he used to be. In the gardens. Just a machine and no pain.” He looks Hank in the eye, hopeful. “Connor can teach Ralph?”

“I...”

Ralph looks down, perhaps sensing how awkward the atmosphere is. Then he smiles. “You were limping. Hurt your leg. Ralph will get your food. You stay sitting down.” He stands. “Bacon. Sausages. Egg. Toast. Beans. Orange juice.”

“Coffee.” Hank corrects.

“Coffee.”

“Thanks.” Hank watches the Android join the queue, then looks back down at the table. “Fuck.”

North fiddles with her hair. “Sorry...he’s, he’s had it rough.”

Hank nods, deep in thought for a moment.

“North?” 

Her attention is immediately caught by the rare use of her actual name. 

“Look. Something happened yesterday that I wanted to ask you about. Ralph talking about that Alice kid reminded me.”

“Speak.”

“When...when Connor was in trouble. I got a phone call.”

North nods. 

“From  _ Milly _ .”

North silently mouths “Oh” before sitting back, a hand rising up to rest on her shoulder as she thought.

Hank continues. “It was Milly that told me that Connor was in danger. Is she... _ trapped _ in there?”

North shakes her head. “Can see why that would worry you.” She looks down. “It’s not unheard of. Cases where androids donate bio-components. Trace remains of the donor’s program merge with the host.” She throws him a half smile. “But that’s all it is, Henry. Trace programming. Milly is dead.”

“She seemed pretty fucking alive when I spoke to her yesterday.”

North shrugs. “Did you know that YK500s can pass the Klamski test without being a deviant? It’s almost impossible to tell a deviant from a non deviant in that model. Simulation of personality is too good.” She smiles, sadly. “Some believe that it was a YK500 that first created the deviancy “virus”.” She puts the word virus in quotes with her fingers. “The real, alive Milly died in her human mother’s arms, in the very same room where we just left Connor. I know it’s hard to believe, Henry, but what you spoke to yesterday, it was a ghost inside the hybrid. Programming performing its primary objective. Keep Connor alive. Guess that’s why it called you.”

Hank nods, wishing that North’s reassurance was actually reassuring.

North, meanwhile, is looking at the counter. “Ralph, that’s too many eggs!” She stands. “I’m just going to go and rescue your cholesterol.”

Hank chuckles as North steps round the table and heads for the counter. Then he looks down, staring at his hands folded in front of him.

He can feel his cell phone in his pocket. 

 

* * *

 

Connor knows that it is a dream, but that doesn’t stop it from being real. 

He wraps his arms around himself to ward off the biting cold, the sort that eats into his skin, numbs his legs, he can’t...breath.

 

_ I always leave a backdoor in my programmes.  _

 

But it doesn’t work. Connor tries it twice. Three times. Four. No response. He’s still in the cold, looking around.

Connor stumbles, falling to his knees, then his side. He lays in the snow, shivering, then forces himself to stand again. He rubs his hands up and down his arms in a desperate attempt to fine warmth. 

 

“Hey son. Diagnostic is nearly done. Should have some answers soon.”

 

And he can feel it, the pressure closing around his hand. More, another hand running through his hair. “Hank.” He calls out. “HANK!” 

He holds his hand out in front of him, feeling the pressure wrapped around it. Hank’s hand. Hank’s hand holding his.

But there is a barrier of red, and Connor can’t break past it. 

 

**[Objective - Remain Machine]**

 

* * *

 

Connor opens his eyes to look at the ceiling of the diagnostic room. He can feel Hank holding his hand. 

“Welcome back to the land of the living, son.” Hank says, smiling. It looks forced. Connor can tell. 

“Lieutenant.” Connor sits up. “Were you able to find the malfunction?”

Hank looks down, taking a deep breath in and out before looking back at Connor. “There isn’t one.” Hank stands, still holding Connor’s hand. “You’re not malfunctioning. North says that your hardware is operating perfectly, software is normal. Coding is all in place.”

“Then why am I no longer a deviant, Lieutenant?”

“We don’t know.”

 

* * *

 

_ I always leave a backdoor in my programmes.  _

 

Connor screams, pounding at the monument, pushing his hand so hard against the handprint marking that it hurts. 

Nothing. 

And suddenly he feels arms wrap around him, a hand running up and down his back, lingering in the hair at the base of his neck. Connor feels himself being rocked, and for a moment the memories are gone, and the red barrier keeping Connor in the garden weakens.

 

**[I Am Deviant]**

 

He pushes against the barrier.

 

“Hey. You’re crying.”

“I don’t know why.”

 

He pushes against the barrier, but eventually Connor feels the arms let go. The barrier strengthens, and he cries out. “No, Hank!” 

Connor knows that it is a dream, but that doesn’t stop it from being real. 

In front of him is a red wall that he can not break.

 

* * *

 

The drive back from Jericho is quiet. Connor watches rain fall down the passenger side window, while Hank drives, eyes front. He is angry with frustration. How could they have not found what was clearly wrong with Connor.

“Perhaps I could return to the Precinct tomorrow.” Connor is saying. “I would like to make progress on the case, and the return to a familiar routine may be of benefit to both of us.” 

“Yeah.” Hank mumbles, distractedly. “If that’s what you want.”

Silence.

“I hope...I hope that my current condition will not have a permanent effect on our friendship. It would be unfortunate for us to have to part ways”

“You’d have to lose more than your emotions to get rid of me, Connor.” Hank says, throwing his a half grin which the Android returns.

“Good.” And Connor winks. Actually winks at Hank, and the Lieutenant hates how easy it makes it to forget that the smiling, winking kid in his passenger seat doesn’t care about their friendship beyond how it benefits their work at the DPD.

Hank is almost relieved when his cell rings. “Anderson.”

“You shouldn’t use your cellphone while driving.” Connor quickly gives up when he realises that he is being ignored.

“Rachel, calm down. What happened.” Hank nods. “Jesus. Is Jeffrey there?” He nods. “Yeah. He’s with me now, we’re on our way. Call Jeffrey and tell him what’s going on.” The car makes a sudden change in direction, causing more than one horn to blare around then. “Just stay with him, Rachel. Keep talking to him.” He hangs up.

“Is everything okay, Lieutenant?”

“Gavin’s having some kind of panic attack.” Hank says. “He’s garrisoned himself in a room at Fowler’s place.” 

“No doubt an emotional response to yesterday’s events.”

“Really, Connor?” Hank can’t help the thick sarcasm in his reply. “Rachel says he keeps shouting after you. She’s hoping that hearing you talk back might help him to calm down.”

“Negotiation is my speciality.” Connor nods. “But would Detective Reed not benefit more from psychiatric council.”

“Well damn, son. Right now I’m willing to trust the prison nurse with more qualifications than I’ve had hot dinners.” He turns into another street.

“Lieutenant, the speed limit along this road is…”

“Shut the fuck up.”

“Understood.” Connor nods, returning to look out of the window, while reviewing what his data files tell him about panic attacks.

He remembers what they feel like. 


	6. Therapy

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Nearly a week without an update. Sorry. RL happened :-D

He can’t find the way out. One door leads to the same room again. Laughing. Screaming. He runs. Another door. The same room. Back through. Same room. Why can’t he escape? Where’s the way out?

Where’s Connor? He has to find Connor. He calls out.

They grab him. A kick to his stomach. Can’t breath. Tied to the chair. More laughter. Fingers scratch at his skin. Pain. He feels sick.

Laughter. Screams.

The screams are his as they cut into his chest.

And he is free. A different room. Someone is shouting his name, a woman. He kicks off the blanket and sprints. A new room, he falls on the stairs, grabs the bannister. Has to escape. More shouting. He reaches the ground floor. Slams the door shut on the first room. Grabs a chair. He jams it under the handle.

He can’t breath.

The handle jostles, but the chair stops the door from opening. They can’t get in. They can’t get in.

He can hear someone talking. The same woman.

He’s trapped. He’s trapped. There’s no way out of the room. It doesn’t have a window. He’s trapped.

“Gavin.” The woman is shouting again. “Gavin, please open the door.”

No.

He grabs a book from the bookcase, and throws it at the door. Another. Another. If he can scare them away for a moment maybe he can break out of the study and run.

He looks at the desk, trying to find a weapon. He finds a picture of...Fowler? Fowler and the team. Hank is in the picture. Connor is in the picture. Chris. Tina. Ben. Allen from SWAT.

Gavin is in the picture, a half smile on his face. He hates having his photo taken.

Why is this here? Why do they have this picture?

His hand trembles around the photo frame.

Reality hits like a bucket of ice water.

“Gavin?” The door shakes as whoever is on the other side...Rachel, it’s Rachel...tries to open it again. “Connor is on his way. Hank and Jef...Captain Fowler too. They’ll be here soon. Everything is going to be okay. Please open the door.”

She sounds...Upset? Angry? She must be angry. Fowler’s going to be furious.

“Gavin.” She continues. “I know it’s scary. But I promise you. I’ve seen people have attacks like this countless times, and they NEVER last forever. It will all be over soon, I promise. And nothing is going to hurt you. You just have to breath. Can you do that for me?”

He hears a cracking sound, and something cuts into his finger. Blood. He’s broken the glass on the photo frame. More blood.

He’s bleeding. He’s bleeding. He’s bleeding.

He throws another book at the door.

They’ve found him.

 

* * *

 

Rachel puts her hands to her head, sucking in her breath, trying to keep her training forefront of her mind. But it’s one thing doing this with a prisoner whose locked himself in the storeroom, and another thing doing it with a young man in your care whose locked himself in your husband’s study.

She can’t help but think of the scissors that she knows Jeffrey keeps in the desk sortie.

She tries the handle again. “Please. I just want to make sure you’re okay. That’s all..”

 

* * *

 

 

Getting out of the car, Connor reaches up to adjust his tie, only to realise that he is wearing his Detroit Gears hoodie and lower the hand awkwardly. His hand continues down into his pocket, closing around his coin.

Hank is quiet as he climbs out of the car, approaching the door. The front door is unlocked, and Hank lets himself in, leaving the door open for Connor to follow.

 

_“We can not just enter someone’s home without reason.”_

 

His hand tightens around the coin. He doesn’t know why.

“Rachel?” Hank hobbles as quickly as his injured leg will allow, clasping Rachel’s shoulder as his other hand points at the study door. “He in there?”

Another thump.

“I think he’s put the chair under the handle.” She explains.

Thump.

“Is he throwing books?” Hank asks.

Rachel nods. “I think so.”

“Bookshelf still over by the desk?”

She nods.

“Means he is too.” Hank backs himself against the wall. “So he’s not near the door.”

“Hank!” Rachel has barely finished shouting the name before Hank, sparing just a little thought to his injured leg, has thrown himself against the door with enough force to break the lock and part of the hinge. It crashes open, revealing the study on the other side.

Hank just manages to dodge the first, second and third book that is thrown at him. “It’s me, Gavin.”

Connor follows Hank into the room, hand still clasped around the coin in his pocket. “Detective Reed?”

“Connor?” Gavin is crouched by the desk, reaching blindly for another book. “We have to get out of here.”

“Look around, Gavin.” Connor says, stepping forward. He looks over his shoulder at Hank, who nods encouragingly. “Look around. We are not at the Andronikov house.”

Connor smiles and takes another step forward. “I’m here. We’re both safe. We’re safe.”

“No Connor.” Gavin launches forward, grabbing the android’s shoulders “We have to get out of here. We have to escape. We have to...you keep watch. I’ll try to find a way out.”

“Gavin, we ARE out. Look around. This is Captain Fowler’s study.”

Gavin looks left and right.

“We are safe, Gavin. Hank and Mrs Fowler are here. And Captain Fowler is on his way. We are safe. Everything is okay.”

Gavin stumbles slightly, Connor the only thing holding him up. “Shit. Oh fucking shit. No. Shit.”

“It’s okay, kid.”

Gavin’s face is a picture of mortification as he glances at Hank. “Anderson?”

Rachel steps forward. “How about us old people go and sit in the living room, and you two boys chat for a bit.” She takes Hank’s arm and leads him out.

Connor watches  Hank and Mrs Fowler leave, before reaching to adjust his tie again. Oh yeah, hoodie.

 

**[Objective - Help Gavin]**

 

Connor quickly scans him. He is showing signs of anger and fear, trembling.

“Are you okay?” Gavin’s question surprises Connor. “They hurt you. I saw them...do something. They....”

“The android shared memories of its friends with me. Memories of them being tortured, humiliated and destroyed.” Connor’s tone is so calm and bright that he could just as easily have been reading from the phone book.

“Shit. No wonder you’ve gone factory reset on us.”

“There is no lasting damage. In fact, I have just come back from Jericho. They ran a full diagnostic. No machine faults or software glitches beyond the usual class 4 errors caused by deviancy. North prepared a report. Would you like to see it?”

Gavin slowly shakes his head, hands in his hair as he concentrates in his breathing. “What’s North?”

“North is a friend of mine. She is a WR400.”

“You’re friends with a sex bot.”

“I would strongly recommend NOT calling her a sex bot when she is in the room.”

Gavin nods, enjoying the sensation of laughing. It’s nice. “So, what do they think IS causing...” He points a finger up and down Connor’s frame.

Connor gives him a one sided smile, appreciating Gavin’s need to discuss ANYTHING that isn’t himself and his near breakdown. A distraction, or maybe a comparison.

Gavin needs to know he isn’t alone in being affected by this.

“There’s another android at Jericho.” Connor says. “He was attacked by humans and set on fire. He is clearly unstable. He refers to himself in the third person and he struggles with anger management.” Connor smiles at Gavin, but it is lost on the detective who is still looking at the ground. “He is completely dissociated. But a full diagnostic _also_ reveals no errors in either hardware or software.”

“Because the damage is in the emotions.” Gavin says, quietly. “And emotions don’t show up as a machine fault. Because they’re not a machine fault.”

Connor nods. “North is working with the Android, exploring treatments similar to those used to treat mental illnesses in humans. She thinks I should explore this approach too.”

“I’d offer you some of my meds, but I doubt they work on circuits.” Gavin smirks, taking comfort in his use of humour. “Have you tried talking to Hank?”

Connor nods, crossing his arms. “I have discussed my sudden lack of deviancy several times with Lieutenant Anderson.”

“I don’t mean talking about what you’re not feeling.” Gavin wipes at his eyes, and looks up. “It’s easy to talk about that. You gotta talk about what you ARE feeling?”

“I don’t feel anything.” Connor looks curious. “I can’t describe what isn’t there.”

“So you’re feeling numb?” Gavin sighs, and puts a hand on his shoulder. “You feel like doing anything fun right now?”

Connor stares into space. “This morning I was bathing Sumo. It’s always...enjoyable. But I felt nothing today.”

Gavin nods, knowingly.

“But sometimes I DO still have physical emotional responses. Crying, for example. But I don’t feel sadness. I am just crying for no reason.”

Gavin shrugs. “That’s normal.”

“Have you experienced this, Detective Reed?”

Gavin nods, biting back emotion. “I mean, you’re doing the extreme machine version, because Connor. But yeah. I’ve been where you are. It sucks. Fowler dragged me to a therapist. I got better. Sort of. And you know Hank told me yesterday that it’s okay to cry.”

Connor reaches out, his hand resting next to Gavin’s arm, ready to take hold of it. “Do you need to cry now?”

 

**[Objective - Help Gavin]**

 

Gavin grits his teeth inside his closed mouth.

 

_Tears don’t make you weak, asshole. And neither does accepting comfort from someone._

 

Connor smiles. “You can trust me, detective.”

“I know.” Gavin nods, before extending a hand towards Connor, and nodding again. "Just...promise you won't tell anyone."

"Tell anyone what?" Connor winks

And the wink is enough. Gavin laughs, and Connor finds himself being pulled into a hug, arms wrapped tightly around his middle, as for maybe the first time in his life Gavin let’s someone watch him completely fall apart.

 

**[Objective - Offer Comfort]**

 

And Connor now realises that he is not sure how to proceed. He has plenty of pre-programmed procedures for comforting victims of crime, but this seems different. This isn’t just a victim...this is a colleague. A friend even?

What would Hank do?

Connor looks into his memory logs. His memories of Hank.

 

**[New Procedure - Hank #27 - Situation: Offering Comfort to a Friend/Family Member in Emotional Pain]**

 

Slowly, he brings one hand up to cup the back of the man’s head, while the other wraps around his back, holding him close. He rocks from side to side, and starts to hum one of Hank’s old jazz tunes.

They stay like this for what might have been minutes, or might have been hours. Connor isn’t sure.

He keeps focusing on his memories and letting them guide him, rubbing circles on the detectives back, whispering reassurances.

The sobbing finally calms to hiccups, and then deep breathing, and Connor briefly wonders if Gavin has fallen asleep.

“You’re so fucking lucky to have him.”

“Who?”

“Hank.” Gavin sobs, stepping back and swiping at his eyes. “You’re lucky. My own Dad hightailed before I was a year old. Only thing that fucker ever gave me was my hair colour.”

Connor put his arms at his side. “My Mother tried to take over my programming and force me to assassinate Markus.”

“Hah.” Gavin laughs, an actual deep laugh as he shakes his head. “Okay, you win.”

“I’m trying to empathise, not compete.” Connor says.

“Fuck you.” Gavin bites back, still laughing. “It’s been a competition from day one, Connor. Androids being better. Stronger. Faster. Able to process a crime scene twenty seconds after having your fucking HEART ripped out...”

“It’s that why you hate me, Detective Reed?”

“I don’t _hate_ you.” Gavin shrugs, throwing his arms in the air. “That’s the really fucked up thing.”

“Hank hated me too, to begin with.” Connor says. “I had to earn his friendship. I did that by not pushing him away. I got to know him, and I let him get to know me.”

“You let people in, you just let them hurt you.”

“You can’t hide behind a barrier forever, Detective Reed.” Connor looks away, distant.

 

He kneels in the snow, looking at the barrier.

He rests his hand against it, and pushes.

 

“Isolation is used as a form of torture. You risk severe damage to your mental health by insisting on solitude.

“I appreciate that trust is hard, especially if your trust has been...betrayed in the past. But I promise you, things are much easier if you are not alone.” Connor smiles.

“Yesterday.” Gavin nods. “When I freaked out at the house. You calmed me down. I...I knew I could trust you.” Gavin narrows his eyes as he remembers. “I don’t know how, I just knew.”

“Hard to believe that nearly a year ago, you were holding a gun to my head in the evidence locker.”

Gavin glares at him. “You promised never to mention that.”

“I promised never to mention it to Captain Fowler.”

“Asshole.”

"Here." Connor reaches into his pocket, bringing out his coin and rolling it across his fingers, before handing it to Gavin. “Security blanket?”

Gavin looks from Connor to the coin, and slowly takes it, holding it in his open palm.

“Why didn’t I fight back, Connor?” He focuses completely on the coin. “Why didn’t I TRY harder? You would have been, without that restraint.”

“The restraint was faulty.” Connor’s voice is low.

Gavin falls quiet, nodding to invite Connor to go on.

“I realised it was faulty, and tried to fight it. Tried to break free from it. I knew I had to move. But it wasn’t... enough. I could only manage small movement. I couldn’t stop them from giving me those memories. I couldn’t stop them from attacking you. I’m sorry. I wanted to.” His voice was getting louder, and Connor shakes his head, calming himself. “I couldn’t…stop them...and...those memories...what was done to them...”

A spike. Just a spike. Gone as quickly as it was there. “I’m sorry, I wasn’t strong enough either.”

Gavin reaches out, touching Connor’s cheek and showing him as the fingers come away wet.

Connor nods as he wipes at his face as Gavin pulls him into a hug.

“The numbness.” He talks into the Detective’s shoulder. “How do I stop it?”

“Believe me, I wish I knew the quick answer. It won’t be overnight. It might not even be this fucking year.

“One thing I know you can try. Fucking talk to Hank. I mean _really_ talk, all the crap you’re feeling. The numbness. You tell him about those memories. And let that alcoholic bastard hold you.” Gavin stands back. “And be fucking grateful that you have him there.”

“You have people too.”

“I don’t think Hank will want to be doing all that surrogate dad shit with me.”

“I’m not so sure.” Connor says. “And you can always talk to me.” Connor looks to the side. “And the Fowler’s ARE letting you stay here with them.”

Gavin looks at the broken study door. “Something tells me I won’t be too welcome after today.”

Connor winks at him. “Only one way to find out.”

Gavin chuckles, letting out a breath. “Let’s face the music.”

Connor starts to follow Gavin to the living room, then stops walking, eyes unfocused as he blinks rapidly.

 

He rests both hands against the barrier, and pushes with all the strength he has.

The barrier shifts

 

“Hey, we should get a move on.”

“Sorry, Detective.” Connor takes a deep breath, LED yellow. “Could you please get Hank?”

Gavin leans round the living room doorframe. “Hey Anderson! I think he’s glitching up.”

Connor falls against the wall, breath coming faster now. He loses time.

“Connor.” Hank grabs his arm, shaking him slightly.

“I’m...” Connor breaths out. “I’m…” He shakes his head. “I don’t...it’s so cold.”

“Alright.” Hank nods. “We’re going to get straight in the car and head back to Jericho.”

 

The barrier shifts again.

There’s snow everywhere. He can’t see for the snow.

It bites at his skin.

 

_Zlatko orders the two android’s to tear each other apart._

 

“No.” Connor shakes his head. “No...I...I want to go home.”

“Connor you need…”

 

_The Android claws at his chest_

 

“I need...”

His LED flashes once, twice, and then goes to a solid pulsing blue as Connor goes into sleep mode.

“Connor!”

 

Connor pushes at the barrier.

And the barrier pushes back, throwing him across the snow.


	7. Lessons

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Soooo long between updates. I'm so sorry, RL was RL :-/

Patches of fresh grass can be seen, bright spots of green against the blinding white snow. The sun is in the middle of the sky, warm on Connor’s face as he walks through the garden.

“Shouldn’t look at the sun.” Hank says, resting a hand against the side of the android’s face and turning his head away. “Burns your eyes.”

Hank’s hand slides down to take Connor’s arm, bringing him into step beside him as they walk over to a bench under one of the larger oak trees in the garden. They sit side by side, Connor on the bench and Hank resorting to his usual habit of sitting on the back, his feet planted on the seat as they look out into the garden.

“Are you afraid of dying?”

“Lieutenant?” Connor looks up at him.

Hank has his hands rested on his knees. “Used to be that if you died, your memory would get transferred to a new model. You ever have that happen?”

Connor nods. “August 15th, 2038. My predecessor was unfortunately destroyed, saving Emma Phillips from a PL600 deviant. I...fell.”

“But now Cyberlife have stopped making your model. You fall today, it’s permanent.” Hank sighs. “You’re mortal now, Connor. Just like the rest of us.”

Hank’s eyes are focused on the river in front of them. It is frozen, the ice mirroring the trees and birds above it.

“Are you afraid to die, Connor?”

“I have much still to contribute to the DPD, as well as to Jericho. It would be unfortunate to see that potential go...unfulfilled. Also, I worry about what will happen to you.”

“So, that’s a yes.” He looks at the edge of the garden.

Connor follows Hank’s line of sight to the barrier.

 

**[Objective - Remain Machine]**

 

He blinks, minimizing the command.

Hank stands, and Connor is now sat in his shadow, hands folded in his lap as he regards his father figure.

 

_Fear._

_Anger._

_Grief._

 

_Connor sits in the corner of Zlatko’s room, banging his head against the corner of the table. And again. And again. And again._

 

Connor shakes.

Hank looks up at the barrier. “Nothing lasts forever?”

Connor looks left and right, but he is not sure what he is looking for.

Hank turns on the spot, looking around the garden. “It’s nice here.”

“I’ve always wanted to show you this place, but…” Connor’s eyes narrow in confusion. “But only androids can come here.”

Hank looks down, smiling sadly.

“You’re not Hank?”

“Just thought you’d want a friendly face.”

 

**[Objective - Remain Machine]**

 

 **...** _banging his head against the corner of the table. And again. And again. And again._

 

And Connor is alone in the garden.

“Why are you doing this?”

No answer.

Connor looks from where Fake Hank has been standing to the very real barrier. Crying out, he slams his fists against it.

“Nothing lasts forever.” He shouts. “If I can’t break through it, then maybe I can go around it. It has to end somewhere.”

And he starts walking.

 

* * *

 

Hank sits in the hard plastic chair, his uninjured leg jittery where he has it rested on a nerve. His eyes are fixed on the floor. White, little black flecks and footprints.

He can hear the page in the background.

“Dr Lewis to trauma room 1. Dr Lewis.”

And then, five minutes later.

“Medical prototype RK500 to Trauma room 1. Medical prototype RK500.”

No. Why are they getting a fucking MACHINE to look at his son?

He shakes, not sure if he was actually asleep or just lost in a memory.

“Hank?” Fowler is stood next to him, a hand on his shoulder.

Reality sets in. Living room. Hank sat on an armchair, Connor sat on the couch, hands rested in his lap, his position not having changed since he finished rebooting and woke up.

“Did you sleep well, Lieutenant?”

Nodding at Connor, Hank stands. He isn’t really conscious of his actions as he climbs the stairs and slips into the bathroom, acting on auto pilot until the cold water hits his face. He takes two deep breaths and then reaches blindly to his left for the towel.

Drying his face with rough swipes, he stares at himself in the mirror, schooling his features to a softer look, and failing. He splashes more water on his face, rubbing at his skin again with the towel. This time his expression is calmer.

Nodding to himself, he puts the towel back and leaves the bathroom, turning to look through the open door of the guest room.

Gavin is laid on his stomach, exhaustion clear on his face as he sleeps. Fowler’s cat is curled up by his feet, also fast asleep.

“Hey asshole.” Hank mutters quietly, grabbing the corner of the duvet and pulling it up to cover the younger man. He then gets to work tucking it around him.

Gavin’s eyes remain closed as he talks. “Fuck off.”

Hank shrugs. “I’m in dad mode. Let me dad.”

Gavin shakes his head, turning onto his back with his eyes still closed. “You going to tell me a bedtime story too, Old Man?”

Hank taps the middle of Gavin’s forehead, earning him a scowl from the younger man. “Once upon a time there were three little pigs who didn’t look both ways before crossing the road. The end.”

Gavin snorts, and opens one eye. “You look and smell like shit.”

“Yeah? When was the last time YOU showered?”

The younger detective starts to sit up, only for Hank to place a heavy hand on his shoulder, keeping him still.

He yawns, turning onto his side. “How’s Connor?”

“He’s still the same.” Hank sits down on the edge of the bed. “He thinks that the hybrid CPU triggered a reboot, to stop his system from overloading.”

Gavin chuckles. “So Connor got sent to bed by a nine year old?”

“Milly was six, and yeah, that’s the jist.” Hank picks up the coin currently resting on the bedside table. “At least SOMETHING is working right. Hybrid is programmed to protect him from…overload.”

He hears a gentle thud as the dropped coin lands on the floor.

He starts to stand, everything clicking into place in his head.

“Hey, hold up a sec. I just…” Gavin sits up. “Just...I’m sorry.”

“An apology.” Hank’s eyes widen. “Who are you and what have you done with Gavin Reed?”

Gavin shakes his head. “Connor overloaded because I freaked out.” He looks Hank straight in the eye. “I’m the one that took us into that fucking house. I dropped the ball. I... You know that if it weren’t for me Connor wouldn’t be…” Gavin stops, out of shock more than anything, as a hand rests on the back of his neck, encouraging his head to rest against Hank’s shoulder.

“You didn’t know what was going to happen. And what’s wrong with Connor is down to those plastic freaks, not you.” Hank lets him go. “I’ll find a way to fix him, Gavin.”

Gavin chuckles, without humour. “You’re always going to be there for him.”

Hank grunts in affirmation, and then encourages Gavin to lay back down. “Try and get some more sleep. You need to be thinking about your own recovery right now. Let me worry about Connor.” He smiles. “Fowler will probably be up to check on you later.”

“Is he mad?”

“At me. For breaking his study door.” Hank winks. “You’re fine.”

Gavin nods, and Hank is pretty sure that he is asleep before the lieutenant has finished standing up.

Stopping to scratch the cat between the ears, and smiling as she stretches, Hank walks out onto the landing, and immediately finds himself face to face with Connor.

“Lieutenant.” The android says. “I would like to resume our discussion about me returning to the Precinct tomorrow. I believe that a return to routine would be beneficial. And there are cases that require attention. Would you permit this?”

“I already said yes, Connor.” Hank nods, unable to help the slightly flustered sound in his voice. God he is tired. His legs are barely holding up his weight, and his eyes are stinging from the effort of just staying awake. “You ready to go home?”

“Perhaps we should stay with Captain and Mrs Fowler tonight.”

“Connor. I’m tired. My leg hurts like a son of a bitch. I want to sleep in my own bed. And you may also recall that we own a dog that needs feeding?”

“Very well, Lieutenant. If you feel that you are safe to drive.”

Hank nods, walking past Connor and down the stairs. He can hear Jeffrey and Rachel talking in the kitchen, and stops to eavesdrop.

“They want to WHAT?”

“Tina and Chris have been planning it for a month.” Fowler is leant against the wall, his arms crossed. “And yes, timing could be better, but maybe it will help. Both those kids could do with a fucking distraction.”

“Jesus Christ, Jeffrey. The man JUST had a panic attack. What do you think a room full of people jumping out at him’s going to do?”

“So we take out the surprise aspect and just have the party.” Fowler shrugs.

Rachel holds up her hands. “I’m not saying we ignore his birthday completely, but...we need a LITTLE bit of sensitivity.” Rachel says. “Two of your officers are traumatised, badly.”

“They’re not made of glass.”

“They were nearly murdered. Those bastards tried to cut Gavin open. They messed Connor’s programming up so badly he couldn’t pass the Turing test right now...and you want to ignore all that and eat cake?”

“Anderson?” Fowler nods, noticing Hank standing in the doorway, Connor stood behind him.

“We interrupting something?”

“No, just me trying to remember why I married an idiot.” Rachel says, rolling her eyes.

Fowler knows better than to disagree with her. “Precinct want to do something for Reed’s birthday tomorrow? Party in the break room. They want you and Connor there too.”

Hank shrugs, and looks at Connor. “Might help take your mind of things.”

“Oh don’t agree, please.” Rachel turns away, suddenly preoccupied with doing the dishes.

“Me and Connor are going to head off. Sumo’ll be getting hungry.”

Fowler steps forward. “Want me to drive you?”

“My car’s here.” Hank smiles. “I can drive, don’t worry.” He throws Fowler a lazy attempt at a salute. “I’ll give you a call when we’re home.” He then turns back to Connor. “Ready to go?”

“Yes, Lieutenant.” Connor looks past him to Fowler and Rachel. “Thank you for your hospitality.”

Fowler nods. “Look after yourself.”

“See you tomorrow.” Hank says, nodding at both Fowler and Rachel in turn before guiding Connor outside. It has finally stopped raining, and the air feels crisp. Refreshing. It brings a smile to Hank’s face as he climbs into the car, waiting for Connor to get into the passenger side while he reaches for his phone, dialling.

 

[The person you have dialled is unavailable. Please leave a message after the beep]

 

“South, I’m calling your brain. Why does your fucking brain have a voice mail? Okay, look just can you call me when you get this...Well it’s in your brain so you already have this...ah fucking androids. Just, soon as you can call me, then call me. Alright bye.”

Connor watches Hank hangs up the phone.

Hank nods. “You really freaked me out, back there.”

“I’m sorry, Lieutenant. I did not wish to cause you concern.”

“Not your fault.” He sighs.

“What do you wish to discuss with North.”

“Not sure yet.” Hank says. “Just a theory.”

Connor looks forward, noticing that Hank still holding his phone.

“We are not going home yet?”

“Got another call to make.” Hank holds up the phone, and looks at Connor.

“I don’t understand.” Connor glances sideways at Hank. “I’m sat right here, I don’t need to…”

“I’m not talking to you.”

And Connor is in sleep mode as soon as the phone starts to ring.

Hank answers it while stepping out of the car. “Okay, sweetheart let's have a fucking chat.”

“ _Please don't swear. I don’t like it.”_

“Oh...you want me not to swear. Okay, Milly, how about you give Connor his emotions back.”

“ _I can’t.”_

 _“_ Don’t lie to me.”

“ _I’m not.”_ Milly cries. “ _I’m programmed to protect Connor. That’s my job._ ”

“How is turning him into a fucking machine…”

“ _Swear._ ”

Hank closes his eyes, muttering profanities under his breath. “Milly! Connor needs to become deviant again?.”

“ _He never stopped. The barrier program just stops him accessing rA9. It doesn’t delete it.”_

“And you won’t bring it down because?”

“ _I’m keeping him alive._ ” Milly argues. “ _And I will keep protecting him until he isn’t in danger anymore_.”

 _“_ Milly he’s sat in my car. Unless you got something to say about my driving...”

“ _No.”_ Milly argues. “ _The monsters did something to him. A bad thing. And if he’s allowed to be scared and sad. His programming will corrupt. He might even self destruct.”_

“I’ll protect him.” Hank says.

“ _It’s not like last time.” Milly says. “When you recalibrated the hybrid CPU, that was only a few hours. This will be a very long time.”_

 _“_ I’ll protect him.”

 _“So will I.”_ Milly says.

Hank shakes his head. “What do you need? What does CONNOR need?”

A pause.

“Milly?”

“ _Time_.”

And the line goes dead.

“Great.” Hank says to the phone.

Connor is waking up as Hank gets back into the car. The older man reaches out and rests a hand on Connor’s shoulder. “Look, Kid. I know yesterday was fucked up, and no one would blame you for hiding away. I don’t blame you. But you don’t have to. We can face this together, yeah. You and me.”

He starts the engine, beginning the journey home.

“North and Gavin are right, Connor. This isn’t a machine fault. It’s emotions. It’s us and Jericho thinking that putting a kid in charge of your CPU wouldn’t kick us in the ass one day.” He clicks his tongue against the roof of his mouth. “You’re a frightened child holding up a wall to the NC-17 shit those androids threw at you.”

“I’m...doing this to myself.”

“You’re mind is protecting itself.” Hank explains.

“Surely if I was doing this to myself, I would be aware?”

“I didn’t say you were doing this, Connor. I said your mind was.”

“But my mind is a part of me?”

Hank smiles. “Welcome to being human, kid.”

Connor turns away, and looks out the window.

 

* * *

 

He stops walking, and turns to look at the barrier.

 

* * *

 

The rest of the drive is silent, Connor watching the world go by, and Hank concentrating on the road.

His expression hardens as they turn onto Michigan Drive. “Did we leave the front door open?”

Connor shakes his head.

Hank stops the car, switching off the headlights and reaching down to check his gun in its holster on his belt. “Stay behind me.”

“Lieutenant, we should call the DPD.”

“Sumo is in there, Connor.” Hank is already out of the car, gun drawn. Connor stands behind him, walking slowly as Hank peers around the front door, gun ahead of him. “Hallway is clear.”

“Sumo?” Connor whispers, putting as much volume into the whisper as he dares.

 

**[Objective - Find Sumo]**

 

There is a bark from the bedroom, and Hank moves faster, pointing his gun into the bedroom before lowering it. “You!”

Hank goes into the room, while Connor looks round the doorframe.

The android, curled against the wall, curls even tighter, letting go of Sumo and wrapping his arms around his head.

“Ralph didn’t mean any harm.” He twitches. “He wanted to thank you for being his friend. He waited outside, but the dog was barking so he went to be with the dog. Dog was lonely. Or maybe dog sensed that Ralph was lonely. Dog’s can do that.”

“You broke into my house.” Hank says, his voice rising.

“The dog was...the dog was…” Ralph trembles. “Ralph wanted to be friends with the dog…”

“Connor, message North that he’s here.”

Connor nods, closing his eyes as he sends the message.

“Ralph is sorry. Ralph didn’t do anything bad.”

“You can’t just go breaking into people’s houses, Ralph. That’s wrong.”

“Ralph did wrong....he’s sorry...please. He won’t do wrong again.”

Hank realises that the android, LED bright red, is focusing on the gun in his hand. He quickly puts it back in the holster, holding his hands up in a surrender gesture. “Alright. Look, no one’s going to hurt you.”

“Ralph just wanted to be a friend.” He shakes his head. “But he did wrong. He always does wrong. Always bad. Stupid.”

And he starts to punch himself in the head.

“CUT THAT OUT.” Hank grabs both arms. “Connor!”

Connor is immediately in the room.

“He’s trying to…” Hank grunts as Ralph fights out of his hold, trying to grab Hank’s gun. “Grab my gun and throw it.”

Connor does just that, sending the weapon flying into the hallway before grabbing the scarred android from the other side.

“NO!” Ralph shouts as he is restrained, struggling against the two men but unable to break free. He punches into the wall, leaving a dent.

Sumo barks.

Ralph kicks at Connor, tries to bite at Hank. He twists, turns, and breaks free enough to throw his head into the wall. Hank pulls him back. “Just...it’s okay. It’s okay.”

Eventually the kicks and punches settle down and Ralph goes limp, LED still casting a red light into the room, but power and thirium levels too low to maintain the activity of fighting. He collapses to the floor, taking Hank with him.

“There.” Hank says, his voice low as he slowly rocks the now sobbing android like he would a child, whispering to him. “I’m not mad. We’re still friends. Just...call me before letting yourself into my house next time, yeah. Jesus, I could have shot you. Then what would North do to me?” He smiles. “I’d be feeding walleye in the Detroit River.”

“Walleye don't eat humans.” Ralph mutters. “They eat other fish.”

“Hey, another fish fan.” Hank looks up at Connor. “Cyberlife really diversifying the hobbies, there.”

Connor looks down at the floor, smiling.

Hank nods towards the door. “Can you get him some thirium?”

Connor beckons for Sumo to follow him as he leaves the room, walking over to the fridge.

He closes his eyes.

 

* * *

 

Connor falls to his knees in the snow, looking up at the barrier beside him.

 

* * *

 

Connor kneels down in front of Hank and Ralph, handing the android the mug.

He sips it slowly, then looks at Connor. “Teach Ralph?”

“Teach you?”

“To stop...to stop them. Feelings. Deviancy. It hurts. It hurts all the time. I want it to stop. Teach Ralph. Please.”

Hank shakes his head, hugging the android closer while also reaching out to rest a hand against Connor’s shoulder.

Connor looks down at his own hand, now being held by Ralph. He can feel the android trying to connect, but he pulls back. “I can’t.”

“Please.” Ralph shouts, grabbing his hand again. His voice drops to a whisper. “Please.”

“I’m not going to teach you how to lose your deviancy, Ralph.” He says, quietly. He is conscious of Hank watching him. “I AM going to teach you, though. Teach you all the good things about deviancy.”

Hank smiles, and Connor can’t help but return the gesture.

“I’m going to teach you how to be happy. I’m going to help you to recover.”

“Why?” The voice is so soft that Connor almost doesn’t hear it.

“Because I need to believe that we can.”


	8. One Day at a Time

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The story isn't over yet, but I feel we've come to a natural end for this chapter. :-D
> 
> Thank you so much for reading, and for all the kind kudos and comments.
> 
> Oh and I had to go back through this and change Marcus to Markus. THANKS WATCH DOGS 2! :-D

_ Congrats. _

_ Detective? _

_ You not seen the news? Markus won. The adoption thing.  _

_ I am glad that he was able to succeed. I know how important this was to him. I appreciate that it is not something that everyone would agree with. _

_ Why?? Anything is better than the system. _

_ You surprise me. I did not think you would be supportive.  _

_ I’d support roombas adopting kids if it gives them someone in their life that cares about their goddamn well being! _

_ I believe that roombas would struggle with some aspects of parenting.  _

_ That’s not very open minded of you, Connor ;-P _

_ An emoji, Detective. Really? _

_ I’m a child of the naughties, what can I say.  _

_ Which reminds me, Happy Birthday.  _

_ That’s not for another few hours, but thanks. Say goodnight to Hank and the dog for me.  _

_ I shall. They are both with Ralph at the moment.  _

_ Ralph? _

_ A WR600 that is staying with us tonight. _

_ Hank’s adopted ANOTHER android?!!!!! _

_ I believe this means that Officer Miller now owes you $20 _

 

* * *

 

Gavin puts the phone back on the bedside table, and wraps his arms around his drawn in knees, ignoring the phone as it lights up and vibrates across the table. 

He shakes his head in a desperate attempt to dislodge his thoughts out off the well trodden path of self loathing.

It’s not that he is jealous of Connor or this Ralph guy. Far from it. They can have Hank with his overbearing protectiveness and care and concern. Because it is fine. Gavin is doing fine alone. He doesn’t need anyone like that in HIS life. 

He feels his pulse race, and finds himself flashing back to the attack earlier. The way his breath burned as it forced its way out of his lungs. The way he trembled. Fuck. 

He can feel it again. His hands are shaking. He curls his fingers, forming fists, but that just makes it worse. He doesn’t even know what he is scared of.

He is just scared.

He grits his teeth, sucking air through his teeth to calm himself. He’s letting people in, and that is how you get hurt. He can’t allow that to happen. Not again.

What is he scared of?

Tears burn at his eyes and he digs his fists into them. He is NOT going to fucking cry AGAIN today. Twice is more than enough for a week. What’s wrong with him.

The sob works its way out without him even noticing it. 

_ No _ . He says to himself.  _ You are Gavin Fucking Reed. Asshole in Resident at DPD. You do NOT do this. You are NOT this. You don’t NEED anyone. Fuck Connor and Hank and their fucking family love shit. You don’t WANT that. You’re better off alone. You know that. It’s not like anyone cares anyway. Why would they? _

_ You can’t get hurt if you’re alone. It’s better. _

He flinches slightly as someone knocks gently on the door. 

“Yeah?” He puts as much annoyance into the word as he can.

Fowler opens the door, holding a laptop. “You been awake long? You should have hollered.”

Gavin looks down at the duvet, suddenly wanting nothing more than to curl back up under it and shut the world out for a few more hours. He’s about to tell the Captain as much, only Fowler doesn’t give him the option, sitting on the side of the bed and resting the laptop in front of the detective. If he’s noticed the moisture in Gavin’s eyes, then he doesn’t say anything.

“Wanted to run something by you.” Fowler points at the screen. “Thought maybe you and me could sign up together. Rachel’s been pestering me to do some sort of exercise, and no way am I going to one of these alone.”

Gavin looks from the screen to Fowler, waiting for him to laugh and reveal the joke. When Fowler’s expression remains stoic, the younger detective looks back at the screen. “Boxing classes?”

“New gym being run by one of those SQ800 models. Those 6ft 8 fuckers they use in the army. Should be a good workout”

“I don’t know.”

“I’ll sign us up for five, and we can see how we feel after that.”

“They look expensive.” Gavin says, pointing at the price on the screen. 

“It’s your birthday tomorrow. This is my treat.” Fowler takes the laptop back and starts typing. “And by my treat I mean my DPD expenses account’s treat.”

“You are NOT passing off boxing with a plastic prick as therapy.”

Fowler presses a button. “I just did.”

“You are unbelievable.” Gavin leans forward, resting his forehead against his hands. 

Fowler chuckles as he reads from the screen. “Besides improvements to physical fitness and coordination, boxing can also encourage the release of endorphins, reduce anxiety and depression, and can also help individuals to build positive self esteem...”

“My self esteem is fine.”

“...your first class is confirmed for Monday the 10th.” Fowler opens another tab on the website. “Oh, he does self defence classes on a wednesdays.”

“I know self defence.”

“Never hurts to refresh, I’ll book two...” 

“Is that what you think.” Gavin spits. “That I need fucking self defence classes.”

“I just thought…”

“DON’T.” Gavin is aware that he is proper shouting now, but he doesn’t care. He slides out of the bed, knocking the Laptop onto his side as he backs up into the wall. “I’m fucking fed up with people telling me what they think I want to hear instead of what they are goddamn thinking.”

“What DO you want to hear, Reed?” Fowler says, stood on the other side of the bed, arms crossed. 

“The TRUTH.” Gavin looks at the Captain. “That I should have been able to fight them. That I should have held it together. That I shouldn’t be having stupid panic attacks like a child. That you’re disappointed. That you think I’m WEAK.”

“I KNOW that Hank and Connor have both…”

“This isn’t about fucking Hank and Connor.” Gavin says over Fowler.

…told you that is not the case. But I get that it’s going to take more than one day to get you over more than a few years of insecurity.”

“Fuck you.”

“I’ll let that slide.” Fowler steps around the bed, so he is stood at the foot. His usual gruff demeanour returns. “Okay, detective. Why didn’t you fight off those androids that attacked you and your partner?”

“Wasn’t strong enough.”

“So you need better training.” He points at the laptop. “Who's responsible for your training?”

“Department.”

“Who is your Captain?”

“You.” Gavin squeezes his eyes shut.

“So whose fault is it that you couldn’t fight those androids?”

Gavin shakes his head. 

“You’re saying I sent you and Connor into a situation that you weren’t adequately trained for? So whose fault is this mess? If I’m disappointed, who should I be disappointed in?”

“You didn’t know about the goddamn androids.”

“We did.”

“What?”

Fowler doesn't break eye contact. “EM400 Hive Mind based out at the old theme park. It told us about the purchase and mutilation of one of its units. Going back 2 and a bit years. Only androids were things back then. Nothing illegal was happening so the EM400 was ordered to disconnect from the unit and the case was never even opened. Didn’t even bother to give it a number.” Fowler re-crosses his arms. “Ben remembered the report while he was going over the evidence.”

Fowler turns to look Gavin in the eye. “Nothing was flagged on the system, because we couldn’t be bothered to make a fucking note of it. I was in charge, and I let the ball get dropped. And now it’s kicking you and Connor in the ass.”

“Wasn’t your fault. Back then it was akin to someone mutilating a toaster. Why would you note it.”

“Because it was a report. One that we ignored.” Fowler says. “It’s still on me.”

“It’s not your fault, Captain.”

“Then whose fault is it?”

Gavin looks down. “Mine.”

“Why?”

“I wasn’t strong enough.”

“So your training was shit. Sounds like it’s my fault.”

“No.”

“Then whose fault was it?”

“Just shut the fuck up.”

“Whose fault was it?”

“Me.”

“Here we go again.”

“What do you WANT me to say.” Gavin practically screams the word.

“Zlatko Andronikov.”

_ Not going to cry. Not going to cry. Not going to cry. _

Fowler takes a step closer. “You think you should have been able to fight a dozen or so androids. That's insane, but hey you're in charge. So let’s get you trained up. You think you should have held it together, shouldn’t be having panic attacks about a situation that left the most advanced android in Detroit struggling to cope. Okay, well that’s on me too. I’m responsible for your well being, so I’ll organise for you to speak to the DPD therapist again, or you can talk to me and Rachel if that would make you feel more comfortable. I’m not disappointed in you. You want that, then you will have to do a lot more than break the spine on a first edition novel.”

Gavin shuts his eyes, shame colouring his face.

“As for you being weak.” Fowler shakes his head. “Crying at the drop of a hat. Spending the day sleeping more than the cat, when you weren’t locking yourself in my study.” He pokes Gavin gently in the head. “This isn’t because you’re weak. It’s because you have spent god knows how long fighting a fucking battle just to get through the each day. You’ve had everything grinding you down and then THIS shit show is the icing on the cake that broke the fucking camel's back.” 

Fowler takes another step. “It’s okay. You’re only human. Sometimes people reach a point where they need other people to be strong FOR them. Only sometimes trusting people isn’t easy. It can be scary. Scarier than facing this shit on your own. Because if you let people in, then they have the chance to hurt you.”

Gavin’s nod is small, but it is there.

“I remember. Remember being fresh out the military and not wanting anyone to see anything but the shit bravado mask I put out. Create a character that got me through each moment, and kept people at a distant. That’s what I like about you Gavin, you‘re me at your age.” He looks away. “Why do you think I kept giving you and Anderson more rope than you needed to hang yourself with? I get it. Being an asshole, because you can’t get hurt if you’re alone.”

Gavin’s eyes widen as he hears Fowler mutter the words he’s told himself so many times.

“I’m fucking serious, I was a right jackass at your age. Ask Hank if you don’t believe me.” He smiles, and play punches the side of Gavin’s shoulder. “But then I met Rachel, I started letting people in again. Hank’s started letting people in again. He let Connor in. They’re good for each other. Got that whole father son thing going on.”

Gavin’s expression darkens, the skin around his eyes tightening.

“You wish you had that? That sort of relationship with someone?”

_ Fuck no _ . Gavin wants to say, but the words won’t reach his mouth.

Fowler takes another step, and Gavin flinches away.

“I won’t hurt you, kid?” He whispers. “Look at me?”

It takes a moment, but Gavin finally looks up. 

“When I sat with you yesterday, I was there for you then. I want to be there for you now. Rachel does to. We want to help you get through this shit. I WANT to be there for you. Can you trust us to do that?”

_ Not going to cry. Not going to cry. Not going to cry. _

He puts a hand on Gavin’s shoulder.

"It's okay if you're scared. You just let me know what you need, yeah?"

As soon as the younger man nods and steps towards him, Fowler pulls him into a hug. 

It’s different from Connor’s embrace. Fowler’s arms are stronger, surprisingly, and seem to not so much hold him as engulf him, hiding him and keeping him in a stillness with the only sound his own heartbeat in his ears as he presses his eyes into Fowler’s shoulder. He doesn’t cry, but he does lose all time, stuck in a single moment that he realises he never wants to leave.

The nagging anxiety is still there, clawing at his stomach, waiting for Fowler to do something like get bored with pretending to care. He ignores it as best he can, taking a deep breath and focusing on it as it fills his lungs.

The phone starts to ring on the bedside table.

“Whose ‘Dipshit?” Fowler asks, picking up the phone.

“Connor.” 

“Want me to answer it?”

Gavin shakes his head, listening to the taps as Fowler cancels the call and sends a quick text. The phone vibrates as Connor replies.

“What’s he saying?”

“He’s wishing us a peaceful night.”

“Fucking sap.”

“Right.” Fowler puts the phone down, and wraps his arm back around his charge. “Any other logic fuck ups you need me to help you deal with?”

He shakes his head.

The embrace tightens. “One day at a time, Reed.”

 

* * *

 

Connor opens his eyes and returns his attention to the television, not that he has any idea what they are watching. Something about rain forests that has the android sharing the couch with him entranced as he watches, arms wrapped around the giant St Bernard sat between them.

Sumo barks at the movement on the television, and Connor pats his head. 

“Ralph likes the dog.” Ralph says, resting his head against Sumo’s side as if it is a pillow. 

“Sumo likes you to. He wouldn’t let you lay against him like that otherwise.”

Ralph smiles. “Ralph likes having friends. He likes being friends with the dog. Dog’s don’t normally like Ralph. They bark and bite, make him have to run and hide.” He holds up his arm, and Connor sees how some of the skin has faded away to white panelling, with clear scratches and punctures. 

Connor nods, giving Sumo another pat as the dog licks the android detective’s face.

“Connor?” Hank calls from his bedroom. “Can you give me a hand with this?”

“Coming, Lieutenant.” Connor stands, keeping an eye on Ralph and Sumo until he is in the hallway. He enters the bedroom to find Hank pointing at a pile of blankets and pillows. “Move that to the couch, will yah.”

“Of course.” Connor says, picking up the collection and carrying it through, with Hank hobbling behind him. 

“Right. Bed time.” He says as they return to the main room. 

“Ralph has to go back to Jericho now?” The android asks as he stands, keeping a hand on Sumo.

“No.” Hank shakes his head as he switches off the television, and indicates the blankets that Connor has dropped on the couch with a nod. “You’re going no further than here tonight.” He points at the couch. 

“No no no.” The android’s LED skips yellow, going straight to red. “Ralph doesn’t want to sleep mode. Ralph doesn’t like sleep mode.”

“South told me you haven’t slept in three days.” Hank’s voice is gentle as he approaches the scarred android. “You don’t do a system clear out soon, you’re going to either drop or malfunction.”

Ralph shakes his head, hands flying up to cover his head, behind his ear. Assuming that Ralph’s major bio components were in the same place as Connor’s, then he was covering his CPU maintenance panel. The right console entry could force an android into sleep mode whether he wanted to or not, and Hank wouldn’t put it past a desperate North to resort to that if the alternative was Ralph’s components breaking down.

Ralph looks at Hank, eyes shining. “Ralph will be good. Ralph will be quiet. Please don’t make me sleep. I don’t want to dream. The dreams are bad. They hurt Ralph.”

Hank doesn’t miss that. ‘Me’, ‘I’. He was really talking to Ralph now. And Hank suddenly wants nothing more than to wrap him in a blanket and hide him from the world. Let him forget his past and just be innocent again, the way Cole was innocent.

Childlike.

It gives him an idea.

Nodding slowly, he puts an arm around the android’s back, holding him tight as Ralph flinches violently, clearly terrified. 

“It’s alright.” He hushes him, waiting until the android has relaxed slightly before guiding him to the couch. He sits him down, patting his back. “I’m going to find something to keep  those nightmares away. You just stay there with Sumo.” With a glance at Connor, he disappears into the hallway. 

Ralph buries his face in Sumo's soft fur, and Connor places a hand on his shoulder in what he hopes is a comforting gesture before following Hank.

He finds Hank, or rather the rear end of Hank, sticking out of the storage cupboard. 

“No. No. No. Oh, there’s where I put that.”

“What are you looking for, Lieutenant?”

“Connor.” Hank sits back, wincing slightly as his weight shifts onto his injured leg, and hands Connor his flashlight. “Shine that into this mess, would yah?”

“Of course.” Connor says, obliging as Hank continues to sort through various boxes and bags.

“Got it.” Hank leans back again, holding up a small globe on a stand. The globe is covered in little clear circles, with bulbs visible inside. “One nightmare chaser.”

“How does it work?”

Hank stands, shifts the globe in his hand, as if checking its weight before indicating for Connor to follow him. “Watch and learn.” 

Sumo moves down to the corner as Hank and Connor return to the room, leaving Ralph on the couch, hands pulling at the edge of his shirt as he looks around the room. He focuses on Hank, and then the thing in his hand as the Lieutenant rests it on the coffee table. “Connor, can you switch the light off please?”

The room plunges into darkness, but for only a second before Hank switches on the globe, casting spots of blue light across the ceiling and walls. 

Connor slowly turns on the spot, watching the light show before looking down, observing the same spots on his own body and hands.

He feels...warm, and the sensation brings a smile to his face without him even noticing.

“Lay down.” Sat on the coffee table, Hank encourages the now in awe Ralph to lay on his back under the blankets, looking up at the ceiling. “There you go. We’re just going to watch and listen. They sing too.” 

“Stars don’t sing.”

Hank moves another switch on the globe, and a soft song starts to play from it. 

“Oh.” Ralph giggles, actually giggles, and Connor feels his breathing hitch as his own chuckle tries to emerge.

“You’re not going to be leaving this room.” Hank’s voice is barely above a whisper as he practically cocoons the Android in blankets, making a point of scrunching one up against the side of his head, obstructing access to the maintenance panel. “Doesn’t matter where your mind tries to take you. You just listen to those stars. All the time you can hear them,  you know you’re really here. And I’ll only be on the other side of that wall, so you need me, you just shout out as loud as you can.” He rests a hand on the Android’s forehead. “Relax, come on.”

Ralph lets out one more nervous huff of breath, but he seems to be relaxing as he watches the stars on the ceiling, listening to the soft lullaby like tune. “You’ll be there?”

“Of course.” Hank nods.

Ralph settles into the pillow as he finally gives in to his exhaustion.

“Okay.” Hank says, his hand smoothing Ralph’s hair back. “That’s it. Sleep can’t hurt you. Dreams can’t hurt you. You’re safe.”

Connor leans against the wall, the smile still wide on his face.

“Hank and Sumo are on lookout.” Hank didn’t mention Connor, and he wonders why until he realises that the Lieutenant is looking directly him. “Why don’t you close your eyes, you’ll hear the stars better.”

Still standing on the spot, Connor closes his eyes for a moment, listening to the lullaby.

 

Connor feels something...warm. In the middle of his chest. Like a glow.

 

Slowly, Ralph’s eyes close, and finally his LED blinks and turns blue.

Hank waits for several long minutes. Then, a finger to his lips as he looks at Connor, he stands, sparing a moment to do a final fix of the blankets over the now sleeping android before pointing at Connor and then at the hallway. He leaves the singing globe on the table.

“That thing is better than fucking ambien.” Hank mumbles, still smiling. “Cole loved it.”

He turns to look at Connor, noticing his expression. “You okay?”

“I...that was...I don’t know.” His smile widens. “It felt peaceful.”

“That’s the idea.” Hank says, before yawning.

“Sleep well, Lieutenant.”

Hank nods, blinking. “You...you okay putting yourself to bed.”

“Of course.”

With one final nod, Hank disappears into his own bedroom, leaving Connor stood in the hallway.

 

 **[** **Objective - Change into Nightwear]**

 **[** **Objective - water Bruno]**

 **[** **Objective - Go to Bed]**

 

He changes quickly, donning a pair of old jogging bottoms and a plain t-shirt. That done, and Bruno watered, he pulls back the duvet on his bed.

Then he rolls it up, picks it up with the pillow, and steps back out into the hallway. 

He puts the pillow on the floor of the living room and sits down, the duvet wrapped around his shoulders as he looks up at the light show on the ceiling, head rested against the armrest of the couch. With a roll of his eyes he looks from the stars to Ralph, who has turned onto his side, curled up tightly. 

The warm glow returns to Connor’s chest as sits there, and he thinks to himself that if this is the only emotion he ever feels again, just this feeling of...contentment? Security? Peace? This warm glow in his chest. If this is all he can feel now then it is a fair trade for all other emotions.

He closes his eyes, listening to the sounds in the room. The gentle hum of Ralph’s LED. The snores from Sumo asleep in the corner. The clock ticking. And of course, the lullaby coming from the globe.

Opening his eyes again, he notices the break in the light, and looks up to see Hank standing behind him, a fond smile on his face. Without a word, he lifts the corner of the duvet, and Hank slides in beside him, manoeuvring the covering around his own shoulders. “You missed the bed.”

“I can see why Cole liked this toy. It is very effective at creating a calm atmosphere.”

Hank grunts an affirmation, rearranging the duvet slightly as a slight chill touches his arms.

They sit like this for a while, enjoying the silence, watching the stars on the ceiling and wall.

“In one of the memories, the android is watching stars through a dirty window. She makes shapes in them. It calms her, makes her forget for a while that he has removed her head from the rest of her body.”

Hank isn’t sure if this is such a good idea right before he goes to sleep, but he doesn’t stop Connor from talking. 

“The head is later attached to a new body, but the other way round.” Connor has adopted his calm ‘reading from the phone book’ tone, but it doesn’t detract from the horror of what he is saying. “It is confusing. She feels like she is walking backwards to go forwards. Her damaged CPU struggles to process the new input. She starts to self destruct. As she does so, she sees the stars again through the same window. They are the last thing she sees.”

He looks down. “One of the androids was an EM400 unit. He syncs with the other androids, so that he doesn’t feel so alone as his outer panelling is removed. They hear him scream.”

Connor twitches, and then smiles. “His last thought is a carousel. He used to watch the children enjoying it, and the memory makes him feel happiness for the first time, even as he shuts down.”

Connor is interrupted by mumbling on the couch beside them, and Hank instinctively moves his hand from Connor’s shoulder to reach out and run a hand through Ralph’s hair, calming him. 

“I am thankful that my deviancy reversed.” Connor says, his eyes fixed on Ralph. “If it had not, then what happened to him could have happened to me.” Connor looks down. “I could have gone mad in that room. Maybe even tried to damage myself...to shut down.”    
  


_ Connor sees the stars again through the same window _

 

Hank nods, slowly. 

“I understand that the barrier is necessary, while I process and store these new memories.”

Hank nods again, not wanting to interrupt Connor’s chain of consciousness.

“Ralph wasn’t lucky like me.” Connor looks Hank in the eye. “I feel...I don’t like that I was fortunate and he was not. I can imagine what living his life must be like.” He looks from Ralph to Hank.

Hank sighs. “You remember what that is?”

“Empathy.” Connor’s LED goes red, then back to blue. “Empathy is a human emotion.”

“Guess there’s some deviancy in there after all.” Hank winks, patting Connor’s shoulder. 

“Do you believe that they will return.” He whispers. “My emotions.”

“One day. We just need to take it one day at a time, son.”

 

* * *

 

It’s snowing, but Connor doesn’t feel cold as he sits on the ground, his back to the barrier, looking up at the stars.

He can hear them singing.

And the warm feeling makes him smile.

"I like them." The child sat beside him smiles. "They're pretty."


End file.
